Zevran's Symphony Erase
by Tryynity
Summary: DragonAgeOrigins Blight Fiction - Zevran and F!Mahariel Kyerra. Rated M for safety although most chapters are tame. Inspired song by Linkin Park "Erase Myself". Work In Progress UPDATED AMAP - also currently being improved by BETA Readers.
1. Kyerra's Dalish Beginning  The Ruins

**Beta Reader TKLivory**

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><p><strong>DALISH Beginnings - THE RUINS<strong>

Tamlen's breathing quickened as his hand travelled up the inside of Kyerra's leg, working his way up and under the skirt of her armour. In response, her body resounded with a hot flush.

There had always been a fondness between the two for their frequent "hunting expeditions" - now more than ever since they had stumbled quite innocently upon the joys of intimacy with each other.

Kyerra and Tamlen were gaining quite the reputation for being accomplished clan hunters; If only the clan knew the real reason for frequent forays into the wild. Of course they never failed to bring back a kill: to be gone so long and come back empty handed would only arouse suspicion. The clan fed well at these times.

In the past, hunting had merely been playful competition between the two - ever since they were fledglings - until one day Tamlen dared Kyerra to go skinny dipping with him. They both had noticed the changes they had gone through and it was partly idle curiosity and partly something much more powerful at work that day.

This kind of behaviour between un-bonded males and females was, of course outlawed, which only succeeded in making his suggestion at the time all the more enticing to Kyerra. A born rebel through and through, she had risen to the challenge, being curious herself, and, well… One thing led to another and now here they were, once again groping each other wildly in woods.

Being discovered like this carried a severe penalty: exile a sentence which was more or less a death penalty for a Dalish Elf. The risk was more Kyerra's than Tamlen's. He was the son of the Hahren Marethari and betrothed to Ilen the Craftsman's daughter, and so his transgression would be overlooked more readily. All shame would fall on Kyerra: it would be made to look like she was the cause of Tamlen's shame, and not the other way round, but she didn't care. "Who do I need to impress?" she had asked herself many times. She loved the way it felt when he touched her, and did those things. It was worth any punishment handed out.

Kyerra had never felt as if she truly belonged anyway. No one had approached Ashalle for her betrothal, and no one was likely to. She felt tolerated amongst the clan, in some cases pitied, but in no way did she feel as if she were considered a real part of the Clan. She had even been excluded from the ritual "coming of age" tattooing of the clan's markings upon her face and body, making the fact that she was views as no better than a flat ear by her own clan apparent to any visiting Dalish Elf. She didn't know why, nor had she asked, not wanting to know the answer in truth.

Tamlen didn't care about any of that. They had been the best of friends ever since childhood. They shared a deep bond with one another: not love, as such, but something deeper like some kind of connection. They understood each other almost as if they were twins. Kyerra was extremely jealous of the fact he would soon be bonded with Ashari, and although it would not stop their forest rendezvous, she knew she would have to swallow sharing him with another.

Kyerra pushed all those thoughts away, enjoying the time she had right then on the warm forest floor.

Tamlen paused and Kyerra groaned. "What are you stopping for?"

"Shhhh," he said "Did you hear that?"

"What?" she answered dreamily.

Tamlen got up quickly, grabbed for his bow and moved off down the track.

Kyerra, too got up swiftly retrieved her own bow and followed in the direction Tamlen had gone, her heart in her mouth. _"Was this it_?" she thought to herself. "_Have we been discovered_?" She rounded a bend which led to a clearing and there she found Tamlen, his bow aimed at the head of one of three _shemlen_. Humans.

"You got here just in time. Look what I found wandering around. What do you think we should do to them?" Tamlen asked.

"Do whatever you like." Kyerra answered; still irritated by the fact their time together had been interrupted. "Kill them. What do I care?" In an effort to scare the _shems_ further, she added "It's not like anyone will know."

"W…we're sorry; we didn't know it was your forest. We were just exploring some ruins and we saw a demon. We are leaving, we don't want any trouble," the red haired _shem_ stammered

"What ruins?"Tamlen asked.

"The ones just down the track a little. There is a cave, and inside are some ruins."

"I've seen no ruins in this forest. You lie!" Kyerra said

"No, no it's true, look," He said as he held out a stone carving.

Tamlen took the carving and examined it.

"It looks like elven writing," he said turning the object over in his hands.

"How would you know that? " Kyerra teased.

"I've seen it on the scrolls Mother has lying around. It looks exactly like that. I want to take a look at these ruins," Tamlen replied defensively.

"What? No!" Kyerra said angrily, fast realising that their fun time was not going to be resuming once they rid themselves of the intruders.

"Go on, get out of here," Tamlen hissed at the _shems_ "Don't come back, or next time you won't be so lucky." He turned to Kyerra. "Come on. Let's go and see what is in these ruins."

Kyerra sighed, and agreed knowing Tamlen all too well. Once he had his mind set on something, he was near impossible to deter. She only wished his mind had been set back on her instead of the stupid ruins.

They both headed off in the direction the _shems_ had told them the cave was, and, sure enough, they found the cave. Kyerra and Tamlen both scrambled through the cave entrance in the cliff face, and there they found the entrance to some old ruins.

"It…looks like the _shem_ was telling the truth but these ruins look more human than elven." Tamlen said.

Kyerra and Tamlen explored the ancient ruins. Their time inside was extremely perilous, encountering giant spiders and a monstrous bear- like wolf, nothing of which the pair had even seen the likes of before. Tamlen marvelled at the many elven statues and relics, much to Kyerra's annoyance. After some time she noticed that Tamlen's demeanour was changing the longer they stayed in the ruins.

"What's the matter, Tamlen?"She stirred. "You're not getting frightened, are you?"

"Me? No, I just feel, I don't know, uneasy. There is something not quite right in here. Don't you feel it too?"

Kyerra stepped closer and put her arms around him, playfully nipping at his neck. "Don't worry, I'll protect you. Let's go back to what we were doing before. We are running out of time and will have to return soon, and we haven't caught anything yet."

"What? In here, now? You're crazy," Tamlen replied. However, looking down at Kyerra's face so full of longing, he could not resist. He bent down and kissed her on the lips. His hands moved over the outside of her armour following the contours of her breasts. Kyerra reached downward and under Tamlen's armour skirt. Kyerra was always thankful for the designs of the Dalish armour – it always made these moments so much easier.

Then Tamlen pulled away. "I'm sorry, no, not here. I can't"

Kyerra persisted "Hmm, your body is saying otherwise."

Tamlen pushed her hand away. "No really, we should go now."

Kyerra sighed angrily, hot and flustered as she walked further into the cave. "He wanted to explore. Fine, we are going to explore," she thought to herself. She pushed open a door, and in the middle of the room beyond stood a huge mirror.

Tamlen, of course, wanted to examine it.

"More writing. I don't recognise it; I wonder what it says."

"Don't touch the glass?" she said bitterly enough that Tamlen got the message that Kyerra was annoyed at him. He knew it wouldn't last, as it never did: she often angered quickly, but got over things just as quickly.

Tamlen thought he saw something move in the mirror.

"Did you see that?" he said

"What?"

"Something moved just then," he answered, reaching toward the glass.

"Let me see," Kyerra said stepping forward. Just as Tamlen's hand touched the glass, she was thrown backwards by a tremendous force.


	2. Zevran's Antivan Beginning  Rinna

**BETA READER - TKlivory**

**Zevran's Antivan Beginning**

Zevran stood watching the pool of rich red blood quickly forming around the body of elven female where she lay in a filthy back alley of Antiva. Rinna, his former lover, had been reported to be a traitor to the Crows and selling information to their target regarding their upcoming mission. Zevran had agreed that she needed to pay the price for her treachery. Taliesen had cut her throat from ear to ear, and now she was dead. She had begged him not to; she declared her love for him and said she would never do such a thing to the Crows, to him or Taliesen. That it was all a lie, a mistake. He had told her even if it were true, he didn't care; at the time he had believed that one hundred per cent. He had seen his way out of a difficult situation, and he had grabbed for it with both hands.

He was a Crow, an assassin. He was part of the greatest guild of assassins in the whole of Thedas. He had worked his way up from the ranks of recruit since he was a skinny elven boy of eight, bought from Antivan whorehouse for the sum of three sovereigns. He had been told that was a good price and he was proud of it. In fact he was proud of many things. One, that he had survived his recruitment and training, and two, that his skills as an assassin were fast gaining him notice from the masters; indeed it would not be long before he too became one himself. His greatest claim, though, was that of a lover. Growing up in a whorehouse raised by whores, his introduction to sex had been early and literally hands on. There was not a woman or man he could not bed. He acknowledged that it was easier for him perhaps than others, being blessed with extremely good looks, as was often the case for elves, but also that he had the gift of a silver-lined tongue.

He had no room in his life for love. Love was for the weak and the foolish. Rinna was a mistake, and one that would never happen again.

Taliesen and Zevran later found out that Rinna had not betrayed them and their information had been incorrect, but it mattered little to Zevran; or so he thought. Their only problem would be the Crow Master should he find out.

Taliesen and Zevran stood arguing about whether or not to tell the Master of what they had done. Zevran insisted that they come clean; Taliesen believed there was no point. He argued it was simpler if the Crows just believed Rinna had died in the attack.

This mission was complete and successful with only the one error, Rinna. If they were to report this it would go badly for them. Zevran knew this, but the growing feeling of guilt had begun to press upon his conscience. He began to believe that if he were to confess and pay the penalty for this error then perhaps this feeling of guilt would go away. He wanted it to go away. Ever since they discovered their mistake a tiny knot had begun to form, starting off as a minute niggle but was fast growing in size within him. He was not supposed to feel like this: he was a trained assassin, a pure killer. "Zevran," he told himself, "get a hold of yourself. If you're not careful, everything you have worked so long for, suffered so hard for will be over."

Taliesen was able to talk sense to him. He always could persuade Zevran to go along with him. Had it been anyone else trying to convince him that Rinna had betrayed them, he may have been harder to convince, and she perhaps would not be dead.

Zevran had no friends. Crows did not entertain the notion of friendship but Taliesen he counted close enough to being what one might be. He trusted Taliesen with his life, another foolish decision perhaps. It seems Zevran was particularly good at those.

When they arrived back at the old abandoned warehouse, a favourite meeting place of the Crows, they were met by the Master of their particular cell, Signore Dario. Zevran noted the sheepish grin on the man's grizzled face, an uncommon sight and an un-nerving one at that.

"Hello, Zevran... Taliesen. So you return to us unharmed. Your mission has been successful, I understand, and congratulations are in order. It is... unfortunate that Rinna was not so lucky to have made it back alive. Yes?" he paused, undoubtedly for effect.

Zevran knew that something was up; this man rarely smiled nor gave out praise, and he knew already that Rinna was dead and the mission successful. He began to worry they had been followed. "What was his game?" Zevran asked himself. He thought for a moment to speak but the black glint in the Master's eye told him to be silent; better to watch how things played out.

"Nothing to say, hmm?" the Master said, stalking back and forth before Zevran and Taliesen. "Zevran. This is so unlike you. You always have… **so**much to say. No long regale of your prowess as an assassin? Come now, don't hold back. I do so want enjoy your tales, and you tell them with such, flair. You do not want to disappoint me now, do you?"

Taliesen spoke up and recounted the events, fearing that if Zevran were to speak he would confess all. He knew Zevran all too well, and could tell that he was in great discomfort under the Master's gaze.

"Thank you Taliesen, but I really want to hear Zevran's version - it always has so much embellishment, don't you think? A born storyteller, don't you agree? I truly believe he has missed his calling; perhaps he should consider a life as a Bard, a teller of tales." he laughed loudly in an exaggerated way. "Can you play an instrument, Zevran?" he chuckled.

"It is just like Taliesen said," Zevran replied. "Nothing much to say other than the target is dead."

"Nothing?" the Master pressed "Nothing more?"

Zevran's neck began to prickle: he knew. All doubts Zevran had were now vanished. The Master knew what they had done and they were going to pay dearly. Even now he could see the Signore Dario revelling in the knowledge that Zevran was just coming to the understanding of that fact.

The Master stood there breathing in the elf's fear, it was invigorating. He loved to watch people squirm in his presence. Even more, did he enjoy watching this whoreson's discomfort. He despised him, his constant bragging and excessive ego. He was going to enjoy watching that shatter. He stood there, dangling them both on the end of his invisible string, wanting to milk the experience for as much as he could.

Finally he released them both with the statement,

"Did you really believe it would not be discovered what you had done? However, you needn't worry. I have no care for Rinna, she was nothing." He glared at them both as he said that. Then finishing much like an accomplished swordsman would with a flick of his sword to gut his foe, he turned and said to Zevran "Just like YOU are nothing! One day, whoreson, your turn will come, and no one will care. Just like now. Who cries tears for Rinna? You are only instruments of your betters, at best, expendable and of little value. No matter how great you are in your own mind, this you will you always be. Nothing."

The Master turned and left. Zevran and Taliesen stood in stunned silence for a few moments. Taliesen was the first to snap out of it and let out a sigh of relief.

"Well that was too close for comfort; I thought we were done for," he said.

Zevran didn't hear Taliesen or any part of the conversation as they left the building and returned to their tiny apartment near the leather works. He only heard the words of the master, over and over again replaying in his mind. The taunting, mocking look in the master's eyes, laughing at him, revelling in his demise. Everything he had believed came crashing down around him. No one had heard, no one saw it happen, except perhaps the master, but that was the point entirely.

Zevran had become nothing.


	3. Dalish Beginning   Return To the Ruins

**Beta Reader – Tklivory**

**RETURN TO THE RUINS**

Kyerra awoke to the sun streaming through a tiny window in the wooden aravel. Her head throbbed and her joints ached, and she felt as if at any given moment she would throw up. She sat up and thought about getting out of her bed.

"You're awake," came a soft familiar voice: Fenarel. "Creators be praised, you have the gods' own luck _Lethallan_."

"Where is Tamlen?" Kyerra asked urgently, disturbed by her last memories coming sharply and quickly into focus.

Feneral dropped his head so slightly that only one accustomed to reading his expression would notice his concern. "We don't know. A _shem_ brought you here 3 days ago; he saw no sign of Tamlen. The hunters have been searching since then no trace has been found. When you're up to it the Keeper wants to speak with you."

"A human? Here ?" _A feeling of concern came over Kyerra. Did the shem do something with Tamlen? If so, why did he bring he bring me back? It makes no sense._

"Yes, a Grey Warden, Duncan was his name. He appeared out of nowhere with you slung over his shoulder. You were delirious and very sick with fever. He said he found you outside a cave in the forest, unconscious and… alone." Feneral paused.

Kyerra saw it was hard for Fenaral to speak. Tamlen was his best friend, and the possible thought that he was gone was straining his will to remain emotionless, in the way of the Dalish. The Dalish were not known to wear their hearts on their sleeves: their survival depended on their strength of character and resolve. There was a short time allotted to grieving, but then the practice was to move on and not dwell on sorrow. Now was such a time; until news of Tamlen's fate was established, clan members would be expected to carry on a usual, with dignity and strength. To act any differently carried much shame.

"Shall I tell the Keeper you are awake?" Feneral asked quietly.

Kyerra nodded and lay back down. She was weak and she was afraid for Tamlen, but she refused to think that he was gone. She calmed herself, willing her body to fight against the weakness she felt that also kept her bed ridden… Tamlen needed her: she must be well again.

The Keeper came into the aravel and sat beside Kyerra. She looked her over quickly and then asked her to tell her everything she could remember in hope that they could discover what had happened to herself and possibly Tamlen.

She became extremely interested when Kyerra spoke of the ruins and the mirror they had found.

"Tell me more about the mirror in the cave _dalen."_ Marethari asked.

"It was large and decorated in a strange way I've not seen before. There was strange writing we could not understand."

"Were there Darkspawn in the cave?"

"Yes, quite a few, but Tamlen and I killed them all."

"Duncan, the Grey Warden who brought you back to camp believed there was Darkspawn in and around the cave. It appears he was correct. He left you here dalen and returned to the cave."

"Perhaps he will find Tamlen?" Kyerra said hopefully. Kyerra could tell that Marethari was distraught but hiding well her fears for her son. Kyerra did not miss the anger in her voice directed at her that he was missing and most assuredly blamed her.

"Are you well enough to return to the cave? If Tamlen is as sick as you were, his condition will be very grave."

"Yes I will Keeper. I will go and find Tamlen and bring him back." Kyerra refused to allow herself to believe Tamlen was gone. _If anyone can find Tamlen it would be me,_ she thought bravely.

Marethari informed Kyerra she was to take Merrill, the Keeper's first. She was gifted in elven magic and healing but also had a gift of sensing things that others could not see. Kyerra was not pleased at this, as she despised Merrill. Not for any particular reason, but she had taken a dislike to her from the moment she had joined the clan, sent by another clan to be an apprentice to Marethari. Kyerra was not impressed at all by magical gifts or talents and thought them highly over-rated. She much preferred the skill of a warrior/hunter: something that was practiced and earned.

Kyerra met with Merrill outside her aravel.

Along the way back to the cave they encountered some strange creatures. Merrill had no more idea of what they even were than she did, (so much for Marethari's wisdom in sending her along or believing her insight would be an asset.) Tamlen would have...

_Oh Tamlen, where are you? _ she grieved silently. She did not dare consider the possibility he was gone_. No. Not my Tamlen._

It was not long before they stood at the entrance. Being there brought again into sharp focus the memory of her and Tamlen standing in this very position - she heard again his carelessly spoken words "How dangerous could it be?" She bit hard on her lip, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. If only he or she had had the gift of foresight, Tamlen would not be lost. Tamlen would be safe. They would not have dared entered the ruins, let alone touch the mirror.

Yet here she was again about to enter, because she held tightly to the hope that Tamlen was in there somewhere. She would find him and take him back, and the Keeper would heal him, and all would be okay again. It had to be... she refused to think anything else.

Upon entering the cave Merrill stopped and stood in awe, surveying the ruins. She didn't miss the opportunity either to expound on her great knowledge of all things and went into a rant about the origins of this and that. This irritated Kyerra even further; all she could think of was finding Tamlen. She cared nothing about these ruins or the artefacts they contained. When Merrill finished her speech with the careless remark that the priority of their visit was to find Tamlen or what was left of him, Kyerra could not contain her irritation any longer and snapped at Merrill reminding her that he may not yet be dead.

Merril apologised at once for causing Kyerra distress, and openly remonstrated herself for her lack of tact. Kyerra knew she was genuine; Merrill had tried on many occasions to befriend Kyerra. Kyerra did not realise that Merrill knew the reason behind Kyerra's desperate need to find Tamlen. Merrill knew they were much more than friends but had opted to not report on their "friendship" to the Keeper knowing it would bring harsh judgement against Kyerra. Merrill also knew the sad story of Kyerra's past, something Kyerra wasn't even aware of. This gave Merrill a feeling of connection to Kyerra, she knew Kyerra didn't feel as if she belonged. Merrill felt so out of place within her new clan too. However allowed few friends into her close circle, Kyerra was close friends with no-one else, just Tamlen.

They encountered more strange creatures that appeared as if from nowhere and attacked them. These must be the Darkspawn that Marethari had mentioned, the reason for the _shem_ by the name of Duncan being here, the one who had found her.

It was not long before they met in person.

**DUNCAN**

Merrill and Kyerra came to the room where the mirror was located, and the last place Kyerra saw Tamlen alive. A chill came over her body as she stepped into the ruins.

A tall medium built man with dark hair stood just in front of the mirror his arms crossed in front of his chest. He turned to greet them as they entered.

In a deep and husky voice he introduced himself as Duncan of the Grey Wardens. He was the human that had brought Kyerra back to the clan barely conscious. She owed him her life and wanted to thank him, but she could not find it in her heart to speak the words. Years of built up animosity towards humans sealed tightly her lips. Although Kyerra regarded Duncan warily, she could not help but be impressed by the presence of the man. He carried the distinct air of a warrior. His very being commanded respect and awe, and yet underneath Kyerra sensed an almost fatherly gentleness. While he spoke she studied him intensely, watching every expression, a hidden language that most were blind to. The Dalish were particularly good at reading expressions and body language. Often words were unnecessary, this almost meant though that secrets were particularly hard to keep. It was an amazing feat Kyerra and Tamlen had kept their secret from the others for so long.

Duncan was curious to know why they had returned to the ruins, and Kyerra told him they were there to look for Tamlen. She desperately hoped that Duncan would be able to give her the news she sought. Sadly he had none to tell; at least he offered none, and she declined to ask.

"Tell me Kyerra what you and Tamlen did? You have been tainted, I can sense it within you and we must deal with it, but first things first."

"We did nothing." Kyerra answered defensively but then remembered that Tamlen had touched the mirror before she blacked out. "The last I remember Tamlen simply touched it."

"Hmmm, this is not good." Duncan replied. "This is the source of the taint that you have been affected with; it is also acting as a portal allowing Darkspawn into the cave and forest. It must be destroyed immediately."

"I need to take this back for the Keeper to study." Merrill exclaimed.

"I am sorry Merrill, it is not possible. It would bring the Darkspawn directly into your camp."

Reluctantly she agreed with Duncan that the mirror must be destroyed.

Duncan destroyed the mirror with one stroke of his sword and with urgency suggested they leave and return to camp, that he must speak with the Keeper in regard to Kyerra's cure. Kyerra argued, wanting to stay and look for Tamlen, but Duncan was quick to tell her firmly that Tamlen was gone. He had been tainted for too long and without assistance. Duncan was telling her a kindly but as bluntly as he could to leave all hope of seeing Tamlen again behind in this cave.

Tamlen was beyond help and she should consider him gone. The Keeper's magic had succeeded in protecting Kyerra and had helped her survive but Tamlen had not had the benefit of this intervention.

Kyerra cared little for anything after that. The truth she dreaded most had come to pass: her Tamlen was gone, lost to her forever. She felt herself slowly disappearing down into a whirlpool of grief.

They arrived back at camp and Marethari was the first to greet them, anxious for news of Tamlen and the mirror, though all her hopes were soon dashed when Duncan told her both Tamlen and the mirror were gone.

Duncan then requested time to speak with Marethari in private and Kyerra and Merrill were excused. Marethari instructed Kyerra to notify Hahren Paivel to prepare a funeral. Deep in thought, Marethari watched Kyerra leave.

Kyerra was grieving silently, but they all were. The Dalish were tough and survival depended on attending to necessary functions and grieving left for a time more appropriate.

Kyerra obeyed of course, as any good Dalish would, but inside she had begun to numb and she went about her duties with considerable detachment. Paivel attempted to include her in the rights of passage for Tamlen in an effort to alleviate some of the strain he thought her to be suffering, on top of her sickness. Kyerra's pain was deep and becoming more and more apparent to all she came across.

When Kyerra finished assisting Paivel she wandered over to where Ashalle stood with the others, for she knew Ashalle would be worried for her.


	4. Antivan Beginning  Drowning Crow

**Beta-reader – TKlivory**

**DROWNING CROW**

Zevran remained in his apartment for several days. He did not go out, nor did anyone come to visit. He was alone, except for the bottles of brandy, mostly empty, which surrounded him. Upon his return, he had spent the little money he had left and bought as much of the mind numbing elixir he could afford. Lifting a bottle to his lips, he drunkenly surveyed the empty bottles strewn across the table, chairs and floor and wondered idly what he would do when he reached the bottom of this, his last one.

He had no idea, nor did he wish to dwell on it too much. That was the point of extreme inebriation after all: to stop one's thoughts, to pass out, only to wake and then pass out again and again until hopefully the body gave up its insistence on survival and not wake up anymore. Then these thoughts, no _all_ thoughts, would stop forever.

Closing his eyes, he heard once again the endless echoing of the Master's voice in his head, telling him over and over that he was nothing, confirming everything he truly deep down believed. He had begun to believe his own boasting that he was special, that he was a valuable asset to the Crows, that he was surely one of the finest assassins to ever hit the streets of Antiva. However, the Master's disapproval of him brought this façade crashing to the ground. The feelings of guilt over what he had allowed happen to Rinna again swept over him as he considered the lovely elf, who had ended her existence as just another innocent bystander of Zevran's life. Along with the guilt came self-hatred at his own poor judgement, that he had been so _stupid_ and weak as to fall in love in the first place.

"Yes Zevran," he said musingly to himself, speech slurred from his attempts at self-medication. "Truly you are nothing. Son of a whore and destined to be no more." He took another swig of brandy, smacked his lips together and stared at the bottle. It was not the nicest brandy he had ever imbibed, indeed he had tasted much better - but it did the trick at a price he could afford.

It wasn't long before he had reached the bottom of his last bottle of brandy, disappointed he had not passed out. His body had betrayed him, defiantly refusing to pass out and grant him oblivion. So he was forced to sit, alone, in his tattered old chair with just his thoughts for company. It was the moment he had dreaded more than any other, because there was nowhere left to hide.

Mercilessly the thoughts came at him over and over, achieving more in a short time than what the Crows had sought in the relentless torture and trials he had been put through since the age of eight. His grim determination to succeed and see it through, as well as his sheer tenacity and pride had empowered him to this point in his life so close to the finish line - but finally something in Zevran broke. All desire, all will had vanished, and his soul withered, leaving behind a vast empty nothingness…leaving only numbness. " No more brandy necessary thank you very much," he told himself acidly.

Zevran's last coherent thought was "_This will do just nicely,"_ crossed his dimming mind as he drifted off in to a long, deep, peaceful sleep.

Now he was ready to go back out into the world again.

A few days later, Zevran finally awoke to Taliesen chucking things at him and telling him to get up as he was required at a Crow meeting. An important job had come in, and all were required to attend. He quickly washed and joined Taliesen and together they went to the warehouse. Taliesen could not help but notice that Zevran was not his usual self, but he put it down to the half a dozen or so empty brandy bottles he saw littered about the room and so put little more thought to it.

The old warehouse was situated in the poorer quarter of Antiva. The large building was rundown and filthy, but it suited well the purposed of large Crow gatherings. Talisen led the way pushing aside the rickety wooden slab door with a thud, to enter.

Zevran and Taliesen attended the meeting, remaining at the back of the room. A mission was being put up for bid: it involved travelling to Ferelden and taking out two Grey Wardens. An Arl Howe was the contact. A very difficult mark, and considerably unpopular with the Crows present. The Grey Wardens were a revered order even in Antiva, and well renowned heroes of Thedas. Fierce able bodied men and women, difficult to defeat in battle.

"_Ferelden," _Zevran thought quietly to himself, watching to see if any took the bid._ "Grey Wardens, the Heroes of legend. Hmmm." _Not surprisingly no one raised their hands to accept the bid. Zevran smiled ever so slightly to himself, as a plan crept into his thoughts. A moment or two later Zevran raised his hand.

Standing up the front with the other Masters and Guild Masters, Master Dario smiled and chuckled quietly to himself. He was not surprised in the least that Zevran would be the one to jump at a chance to prove once again that he was the best assassin in all of Antiva. He came to the realisation that perhaps if Zevran came back triumphant he would finally have to relent and give him his dues.

When no one else volunteered the job became Zevran's.

"Count me out of this one" Taliesen said as they walked back to Zevran's tiny grotty apartment. "I think you may have bit off a bit more than you can chew this time."

Zevran didn't care; it was exactly as he wanted it. He had no need for any assistance for what he planned.

Zevran quickly threw some things together, and left immediately for Ferelden.

Zevran made his way to the dockyards on the edge of sapphire coloured waters of Rialto Bay. He stood on the docks and looked back at his city - his home - for one last time, knowing he would not return.

He breathed in deeply the wretched smell of the leather tannery nearby, mixed with the smell of fish from the adjacent merchant stalls and watched momentarily as some young street urchins chased each other through the crowded streets, listening to their childish laughter. Zevran could not recall a time he had ever laughed and played like that as a child. He was not bitter however, he had been happy as a Crow. He had desired to be the best from the very first moment he was taken from his whorehouse home and cast into the Crow holding pens. It all seemed so long ago now.

If he knew how to cry he would have, if only a solitary tear, but he had long lost that ability many years ago. It was the only home he knew, his beautiful Antiva, the one bright star in Zevran's life.

Zevran's first impressions of Ferelden were not good ones. It was raining and cold. The streets were filthy and the buildings run down. Everything smelt damp and dank. "_What a dreary place,_" he thought as he made his way the Gnawed Troll Tavern where he was to meet with the Arl. From there he would be taken under escort to meet with Teyrn Loghain, a hero of great renown himself.

Zevran was curious about the details behind this mission. Royalty taking out royalty, politicians taking out politicians, husbands taking out lovers, this he was accustomed to; but heroes killing heroes, what could be the purpose of that? Surely there was not rivalry among heroes for top place. He didn't care enough, though, to give it much thought beyond that. The details were insignificant: all that mattered was the result.

Arl Howe was a ferret of a man, with the uncanny resemblance to a mutated rat. Zevran took an instant dislike to him. Loghain was a tall hulking fellow, dressed in full armour; he took up a large amount of space and commanded an air of respect which Zevran could not help but give him. Loghain did not seem at all pleased with the fact that an assassin had been hired, but relented nonetheless, if somewhat unwillingly.

He was told that the Grey Wardens were last seen in the town of Lothering south of Denerim and would most likely be headed to Redcliffe to seek out Arl Eamon. They were travelling with company and he was told to meet with Ignacio in the Marketplace who had arranged a team for him and transport.

"_Help?"_ Zevran scoffed to himself as he went to meet with Ignacio. _"I need no help_!" He had not counted on having people with him, which were most likely going to lose their lives too.

Zevran intended not to succeed, but he had to make it look good. He wanted to die as a Crow, with honour… No one should suspect suicide… No one believed he would make it back alive and so no one would be surprised when he didn't. Going out in a blaze of glory: that was what he had planned for himself. _What luck_, he thought, _for this mark to have come in_. He would never settle for a mediocre death - he had worked too hard at being great. It was a pity that others would die too, but, oh well, death happens sometimes; an assassin was aware of this fact.

At last he would be free of the Crows, and remembered as a promising assassin who understandably fell in battle against a pair of Mighty Grey Wardens – everybody knew they were impossible to kill. Or maybe no one would even care; after all he **was** nothing, and even _he_ no longer cared, when it came down to it, so it didn't really matter anyway as long as he didn't have to live it every day.


	5. Dalish Beginning  Sent Away

**Many thanks to TKlivory - my**** beta**

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><p>Ashalle had been the one who raised Kyerra from infancy. Ashalle was childless; she had volunteered to assume the responsibility for raising Kyerra when no one else would. Although Ashalle had been overly protective of her, an ever present source of irritation for Kyerra, she was kind and loving and she was the only parent Kyerra had known. To all accounts Ashalle was her mother.<p>

Kyerra knew little of her parents; it was never spoken of for a reason Kyerra didn't know. It was made known to her at a very early age that it was not to be spoken of, so eventually she had stopped asking. Ashalle's tendency to over protect Kyerra made her feel like Ashalle thought she was incapable of looking after herself, something Kyerra resented above all things. She was as good, if not better, with bow or knives, than any of the hunters in the clan. Yet even though Ashalle insisted on treating her like a defenceless child, deep down Kyerra knew it was because she at least she cared, which was good to know.

Ashalle was standing with the clan cooks preparing the day's meal. Kyerra had been right in assuming she was worried. She saw the relief wash over Ashalle's face when she walked into view.

"I am so relieved to see you are awake, _dalen_. What news is there of Tamlen?"

"He is gone, Ashalle." Kyerra's head lowered, comfortable enough around Ashalle to relax her brave front, even if only a little.

"You worry me so much, Kyerra. I know I should trust your abilities more, but it is hard for me to think I may lose you. I never told you of your parents and what happened. It is not encouraged that we speak of bad things; however, it will help you understand perhaps why I fear I might lose you."

Ashalle sat down with Kyerra and told her the story of how Kyerra came to be and how she was orphaned.

Kyerra reeled for several moments after hearing the story of her parents, but at last now she began to have some understanding regarding her status within the clan.

Her mother did not have the approval of her clan for their union. They disobeyed and continued to meet secretly. Kyerra's father was the Keeper before Marethari, his responsibility to do the correct thing as leader greater than most, in the eyes of the clan and the Creators. Oneday, some _shem _hunters came along with their pet flat-ears (As City Elves were called this by the Dalish because they were more like the _shemlen_ masters than elves). Kyerra's father was shot with an arrow by a flat-ear, but her mother escaped and returned to her clan. Later it was discovered she was pregnant, a big shame, and she was sent from her clan. Kyerra's mother sought refuge in the clan of her lover, and Marethari took pity on her and allowed her to stay. Very soon after Kyerra was born her mother walked out into a moonlit night and never returned, for grief had consumed her soul.

Kyerra was sure the clan viewed her father's death as a curse by the Creators in judgement of his behaviour. Her mother's subsequent death further accentuated this fact. Kyerra suspected her birth would have been received as a curse, by any respective clan. Kyerra now understood she had been lucky that Ashalle was willing to take her in. She could have been abandoned under the circumstances. It all made so much sense now. She now held Ashalle in much greater esteem knowing this; she had truly loved her and had never made her feel like a curse.

Finally Kyerra understood why she had not been allowed the rite of passage, of having the clan's tattoo upon her face. It was because she was not a part of the clan, of any clan. It was customary to use the designs of each clan, identifying your heritage and kin to other Dalish clans. Kyerra's only heritage was that of shame and disgrace. So this is what she would bear her entire life. Due to the absence of the markings, Kyerra was deemed lower than a Dalish flat-ear.

Occasionally a flat-ear would be accepted as a true clan member, after thoroughly proving themselves worthy. Upon acceptance they were granted the right of passage and given a new heritage. For Kyerra however, her status would only be acquired by joining with a male. If Ashalle had still had a mate, Kyerra would have obtained status by adoption, but Ashalle's mate had died years earlier and she never acquired another.

Kyerra presumed she was on the bottom of everybody's list as a likely mate. Tamlen would have joined with her in a heartbeat, and had he only approached Marethari sooner he may have had that chance. Master Ilen had been quicker and a marriage had been arranged with his daughter before Tamlen had had the chance.

She wondered how many knew her story; she wondered if Tamlen had known. A stark thought came into her consciousness: _What if the reason he was dead now was because of her? Had his life been cursed because he had been close to her?_ The horrid reality that it could be true was like a knife to her heart. _Would every life hers touched suffer the same fate?_

She wondered these many things as she wandered over to the chest Ashalle told her held the only things that were left of her parents. Why she wanted them she had no clue; perhaps she could sell them later, for she had no care for them. She resented her mother now for abandoning her, for leaving her alone like this. How _any_ mother could not find a reason to live in their own child escaped her. Her mother's choices had resulted in Kyerra's birth; she had had a responsibility to her. Kyerra judged her as weak and Kyerra decided she despised her for that weakness.

She held the pendant loosely in her hand: it wasn't even attractive. She slipped it into her pocket and then continued over to Marethari's aravel. It was time to hear what she and Duncan had decided regarding her fate. Had she not been so hollowed by the loss of Tamlen and the revelations of her parentage, she might even have cared, as it was, she did not.

**Sent Away**

Kyerra was being sent away. She wasn't sure if she had heard Marethari correctly. _Leave the clan? Go with this shem? Become a Grey Warden? No. Not this!_She tried to protest; she would have protested more, but having Duncan present subdued her willingness to create a scene. She struggled hard to believe Marethari's claims that it grieved her to send her away; Kyerra could not help but believe Marethari saw an opportunity to get rid of her and had seized upon it. Perhaps she too had blamed her for Tamlen's death. So much had been unsaid in her life it was hard to believe anything now that she had believed before.

Even so strange as it was, Kyerra felt grief at the thought of leaving here. A moment ago, she would have loved the idea of running away; but now being confronted with the fact that she would see her clan no more and all choices being taken from her scared her. Kyerra rarely felt fear, but right now at this point she did.

Everything was happening too fast; her head began to swim, with the events of the last few days. She felt like she was swallowed up: she wanted to cry out, she wanted so much to protest but dutifully she remained silent. She was brought to heel by the added comment of Marethari's, "it was to serve her clan". Marethari was sure to have seen her unwillingness, and to subdue her further into submission she was using this now. It was for the greater good of the clan, and the Dalish Elves in general. Her duty was to them and not to herself. This was how she was raised, and, as rebellious as she was, this was the one thing she would bow her knee to: duty and honour for her clan's sake. Of course Marethari knew this about her.

Kyerra wanted so much to scream, to cry, to beg, and throw herself at Marethari's mercy. Death would be better. _Please,_Kyerra cried out silently, hoping Marethari would see and change her decision.

With feigned acceptance she agreed, and readied herself to bid farewell to her clan. All she had even known was Dalish life. She dared not think about the world she was being thrust into, the world of _shemlan_and the vast unknown. Her heart was wrenched with grief and anguish, she had held back for so long but it was evident to all present that Kyerra was far from happy with the events unfolding.

Kyerra noticed that as she said farewell to her people, there were tears in Merrill's eyes. She briefly embraced her, knowing now what Merrill had faced when she was sent away from her clan to join theirs. She only just now wished she had been more pleasant to her. How horrible it must have been for her, though at least she came amongst her own kind. Where Kyerra was headed was totally alien to her, and she was afraid, very afraid: a relatively uncommon feeling for her.


	6. Ostagar  Lothering

This chapter has been made better by the wonderful assistance of my BETA reader Prism Elf

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><p>OSTAGAR<p>

Duncan stood in front of the blazing bonfire in the middle of the fortress. The air was distinctly crisp and still, it was going to be a cold night. Warming his hands he explained to Alistair the difficulties he would have to overcome having a Dalish in the group.

"She is no doubt going to be a handful Alistair." Duncan said "The Dalish as a whole are fierce and proud extremely independent people and give little trust towards humans and city elves. They refuse to be ruled but will follow any leader that can earn their respect."

"Yes I think I understand." Alistair replied

"Kyerra though is currently experiencing tremendous grief. She has lost someone who was very close to her heart on top of that, and she has left everything she knows behind with no hope of returning and come into a world she has been taught to hate since birth. She will need your understanding, possibly for quite some time. She is tough, and has a distinct rebellious streak. She will show little if any of her feelings but she will work her way through them on her own eventually, I am confident of that. I need to know I can count on you Alistair to help ease her transition to her new life."

"Alright Duncan, I will do my best, you can count on me."

Duncan had only just arrived back with his latest charge. A female Dalish Elf from up north and he was troubled deeply by the events that had led to her recruitment knowing full well the anguish and grief she must be experiencing. She had said very little during their entire journey except when answering a question and even then it was as briefly as possible.

Alistair listened as Duncan explained to him that the Dalish were fierce noble warriors, stoic and composed and show little emotion and were not given to chatter. Duncan made him aware of his concerns for her and the bumpy road that lay ahead for her. He seemed confident though in his choice and that she should she make it through the joining and this time of transition he had no doubts that she would be a great asset to the Grey Wardens.

POST JOINING

The Joining was completed. Sadly only one of three made it through alive. Alistair hated the Joining, although he understood it was a necessary evil to becoming a Grey Warden but he deeply wished another way would be discovered. Then perhaps the secrecy that surrounded the ritual could be done away with and people could be given an informed choice.

Alistair left with Duncan directly after the joining to give Kyerra some time to be alone to come to terms and recover from the experience. He was happy to give her space for in truth he was scared of her.

He witnessed her slay a prisoner in cold blood in front of a guard. The prisoner had asked for some food and water and Kyerra obliged him by asking the guard present for some. The guard had refused and when she went back to the prisoner she drew her knife and cut him down. It took several moments for Alistair to recover enough from the initial shock so he could calm down the guard. He really didn't want to deal with the man's commanding officer. He mistakenly believed she had done it for the key to the mages' chest that the prisoner had held in his possession and was surprised when she turned an offered it to him. In shock he refused it and she had simply tossed it aside without a backwards glance. This confused Alistair, her actions were brutal and fast yet it was done for no apparent reason that Alistair could see.

When Alistair relayed this to Duncan he had only shook his head explaining to Alistair that in her eyes, she was showing the man mercy, and it was not the brutal act it appeared. This was exactly the kind of behaviour Duncan was trying to enlighten him about when he had talked to him earlier.

Duncan assured Alistair in time he would learn to appreciate Kyerra's strengths.

"You will find Alistair she will be the one to stare down death and not flee even when everyone else has run. Just have patience, Alistair and try to get along and help her to better understand our cultural differences. I f you see a situation starting to happen try to diffuse it before something does occur. That's all the advice I can give you on the matter. Stay one step ahead."

Never the less, Alistair was slightly afraid to think someone could commit such a malicious act, and now he was expected to hang around her and babysit her every move? He had promised Duncan that he would do his best but he wasn't sure if his best would be enough. This responsibility Duncan had placed on his shoulders scared him even more than she did.

Alistair had led a sheltered life being raised for the most part in a Chantry. He was grateful to Duncan for recruiting him into the Grey Wardens. Duncan was like a father in his eyes, and so for his sake he determined to make an effort with Kyerra only because he had asked him.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Kyerra was in shock and Duncan told her to take some time to adjust. She had been requested to attend the meeting with the King and Loghain to discuss the battle plans and should join them as soon as she felt ready. "_An odd request by King Cailan"_ she thought, especially after the way in which she had spoken to him. Duncan had been displeased and later when she spoke ill of the King he reminded her firmly Cailan was King and was due respect. What he didn't understand was that Kyerra had no King. Especially not a ridiculous Shem, who on all accounts reminded her of an overgrown child, he would certainly obtain no unmerited respect from her, important Shem or no.

Cailan had shrugged it off and laughed admiringly at her. Her fiery rebuke had obviously gained her points of respect from him, and so it should. In the Dalish there was much to respect. However in her eyes he dropped many points. A real Leader would have slain her on the spot.

It did not escape her attention at the meeting Loghain raised an eyebrow at her rebuke to Cailan. Later she had heard them arguing inside the King's tent. It was clear to her this Leader of the King's Army had little respect for his monarch either.

How ridiculous the shemlens should bow to such a man!

POST BATTLE

Duncan knew he was dying. He had turned just in time to see the King be crushed in the hands of a giant Ogre. Duncan had heard the crack and crunch of his ribcage from a few feet away and then watched as his lifeless form was tossed away like a discarded rag doll. He had sensed the attack before it had even happened.

Duncan's own injuries had all but taken his life. Every breath brought intense agony as he struggled to draw breath through his punctured lungs. His shoulder dislocated and wrist smashed he gritted his teeth through the pain to lunge towared the Ogre that had killed Calian. Climbing the beast using his weapons to gain purchase as he travelled upward. Each blow racking his own body with pain. Finally level with the hideous creasture's chest he plunged his sword through the it's gullet, and twisting it with an added measure of vengeance . Falling with it to the ground.

He searched the horizon for Loghain's men. They had not arrived as planned. Bewildered Duncan looked to the Tower where he had sent Alistair and Kyerra to light the beacon, the signal for Loghain's men to advance. He had feared they had not made it, but he was wrong he saw it flaming brightly in the distance. They had not failed…

"_Where is Loghain ? We have been betrayed!"_were Duncan's final thoughts as his body finally gave in to the wounds he had acquired.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

No sooner had the flame been lit in the Tower a large door crashed open and into the room spilled many Darkspawn. Already bearing many injuries from their battle with an, Alistair and Kyerra struggled to keep back the horde.

Alistair saw in his companion before he fell, the fierce determination and qualities Duncan had seen. She had not faltered for one moment. She fought fearlessly until she too was overwhelmed by the relentless horde. Alistair never saw what happened to her as he too was overrun, but he couldn't help to think that Duncan had been right about her on every account.

SNEAKY WITCH THIEVES

Alistair recovered sooner than his companion and he sat by the lake outside the shabby hut trying to take in all that had happened.

Alistair and Kyerra had been overcome by Darkspawn had it not been for Flemeth and her daughter Morrigan both he and Kyerra would be dead along with all the other Grey Wardens. He learned that Flemeth and Morrigan had been watching the battle from afar and seen it all. The two witches observed as the small group had entered the tower, and did not exit. They witnessed Loghain recall his troops abandoning the others to their fate and seen the entire Grey Warden Order of Ferelden along with its leader and the King annihilated. Rushing to the tower Morrigan and Flemeth retrieved the last remaining Grey Wardens that now were the only buffer against the rising Blight in the land of Ferelden. Alistair and Kyerra owed them their lives.

Both the Grey Wardens wounds were extensive and had taken many days to recover. Kyerra had yet to awake but Alistair was inconsolable and beside himself with grief. He tried unsuccessfully to hold back the tears but in the end the pain he felt at the loss of Duncan a man he deeply respected and saw more like a father than a superior as well as the shock of what had happened took its toll and he cried like a baby.

He and maybe this crazy Dalish girl were the last Grey Wardens and with the ensuing blight he was only a hair away from breaking down completely.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Once Kyerra had fully recovered it had been decided that it was up to the two of them to raise an army to fight against the Darkspawn. Their plan was shaky at best but it gave them something constructive at least to focus on.

It was decided that they should first journey to the nearest village called Lothering, it was several days away but there they would be able to equip themselves properly and it was a good place to get information and work.

Morrigan was to accompany them, much to Alistair's discontent. Kyerra could tell that he was uncomfortable with the pair of them. He had called them witches before, and from the other's reaction this was a bad thing. Kyerra could see nothing wrong with either and she did not care in the least either way who joined them.

AND NOW THERE WERE EIGHT

Kyerra awoke from yet another disturbing nightmare. Alistair had warned her about them, but she did not think they would bother her as much as they did. They were rather tame in the beginning but night after night they were growing in intensity. There was also a new development. Tamlen had started appearing.

Sometimes chasing her, sometimes laughing at her, but this time they had been making love. He was as she had remembered him sweet and gentle, but then he had changed into a vile creature and had become very rough tearing at her until she awoke. Her body was dripping with sweat and her heart was thumping loudly in her chest. She looked around the camp and only Alistair was awake.

"Nightmares again?" making yet another attempt at friendship.

Kyerra nodded but said nothing.

"In time you should get used to them most do" he added hopefully. At least she had responded this time.

Kyerra gazed around the camp. They had started off with only three in just under a week had grown to seven people.

First they had acquired a human girl with bright coloured hair whose name was Leliana. She had approached them and asked to join them after helping them in a brief battle they had gotten into at the Lothering Tavern with some of Loghain's men sent out by Loghain to kill any surviving Grey Wardens. He had named them as traitors spreading rumours the Grey Wardens had betrayed and murdered the King.

Leliana's story was a strange one. She believed her god had spoken to her in a dream. She had fought well and so Kyerra agreed readily although Morrigan disapproved, she had taken an instant dislike to the girl for no apparent reason however Kyerra cared little about that fact.

Second person to join them was a huge form of a man, at least she thought he was a man, the others had called him a Qunari but Kyerra had no idea what that was. His name was Sten. When she had met him He had been locked in a cage. Put there by the Revered Mother of the Lothering Chantry for murdering an entire family with his bare hands. He had a surly personality but Kyerra sensed an air of pride and warrior strength. It occurred to Kyerra to put him out of his misery as she had done for the man back at Ostagar, these shems had no honour in the way they treated their prisoners. She noticed that Alistair was suddenly all jumpy. He had been there with her at Ostagar when she had been merciful to the shem in the cage. She still could not understand why she had even bothered, except she could not stand to watch any creature suffer. They hadn't even bothered to give him food or water.

The next two to join them were a pair of Durgen'len, who were travelling traders. Kyerra had heard Marethari speak of dwarf people before but never had she encountered one. The older one was called Bohden and the younger one called Sandal. They had saved the pair from an attack on the highway by a group of Darkspawn and had later met up with them along the road. The older dwarf had decided to tag along believing it was safer to travel with the group and in return he offered his wares at a reduced price. Kyerra thought this to be an acceptable trade off and had agreed to let them join them.

Kyerra cared little for who joined them and who didn't. Her only requirement was they pulled their weight. If she had her choice she would have preferred to be alone. Since that was not to be the case, she didn't see the reason to refuse any offer of assistance after all they were to raise an army out of nothing.

The most recent member of the party was a War Dog, known as a Mabari Hound. It had tracked Kyerra down all the way from Ostagar and had found her just outside Lothering. At first she resisted the idea, having no idea what to do with a dog but when Alistair said it had most likely imprinted or bonded with her and would more than likely follow her regardless. The dog had chosen Kyerra like it or not. Alistair was the one to give it a name; Kitty. He teased the dog by telling it was as cute and adorable as a pussy cat. Kyerra was sure from the way animal acted it was disgusted by this remark.


	7. A Fine Plan

This post had been improved by the talents of my BETA reader Prism Elf.

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><p>Zevran tossed and turned unable to sleep feeling anxious and unsettled, not from fear exactly but in eagerness for it all to be over. He got up from where he had been laying, carefully so as to not to disturb his companion.<p>

His companion, a young female mage had been flirting with him all the way from Denerim. He had opted to ignore being disinclined to partake in the goods offered, but figuring in the end there were worse ways to pass time he relented. She was more than eager to do most of the work and he happily let her. He sat back trying to enjoy the experience the best he could. After partaking several times she eventually fell asleep, but Zevran had not.

Again he went over the plan, making sure every detail was covered.

Walking around the area, Zevran surveyed the lay of the land. The spot had been chosen because there was only one way in and one way out. The way out would be sealed by a large tree. The passage way also had some excellent vantage points from which he would place some archers. He had decided it was probably a good idea to lay traps also to prevent or slow down any access to his bowman from melee assault.

Zevran decided he would gain a better advantage using surprise attack. So he ordered the oxen slain and tipped over the carts they had been travelling in to make it look like they had been attacked by bandits. Furthering the ruse, the mage would run up to the party pleading for assistance, drawing them unaware in his trap. It couldn't fail. He was to stand at the back of the canyon along with the young mage and four assassins; blocking the only exit.

His thoughts ran back to what had brought him to this point. He was surprised he was actually going to go through with this, his mind held no doubts. He had thought that he would get a change of heart closer to the actual time, but he had not.

Zevran went back and laid in his bedroll eventually drifting off to sleep. Sometime later he was woken by a scout; it was a few hours past dawn and the Wardens had been spotted a mile up the road.

Jumping up Zevran alerted everyone in camp. He went over a checklist making certain everyone knew their jobs. They were ready; all that was left was the waiting.

It most likely had only been a short while but to Zevran it was like waiting hours. His palms were moist and his heart raced with anticipation. The longer he waited the slower time felt. At last the signal came that the group were just around the bend. The mage ran off to get the ball rolling.

This was it, finally. Zevran breathed deeply and calmed himself.

Running the mage came back to Zevran and the party followed quickly behind. They had fallen for her story hook, line and sinker. He grinned considerably.

A blonde elven girl, was in the lead. One of the Wardens was reported to be a female elf. The other Warden was described as a young male human with strawberry blonde coloured hair; Zevran spotted him bringing up the rear.

Zevran's instructions were explicit. It was imperative that all Grey Wardens die; the others were less important yet should be disposed of to avoid witnesses. In their company were a red-head female and tall exotic looking dark haired female humans, a Qunari warrior and a brawny looking war dog.

The elven warden's eyes darted around the area coming before coming to an abrupt halt. She then said something and the rest of the group followed suit, but not before reaching the crucial point in the trap where they could be blocked in. She looked straight at Zevran and him at her, he could tell that she knew something was up and his element of surprise was vanishing.

He quickly gave the signal with a smirk, '_No matter'_ he thought, still confident of his plan.

His fellow assassins came out from their hiding spots in an effort to distract the group while the tree was pushed over. With cat like reflexes the elven girl leapt and rolled out of the way before the tree had even reached the halfway point. She stood upright up again with equal agility. Her bow already drawn, she quickly knocked an arrow, which was now targeted on Zevran.

Zevran yelled "The Wardens die here" as he drew his weapons.

Instinctively he dodged the incoming arrow the Elven girl sent at him. Narrowly missing him and unfortunately hitting the mage behind him skewering her through her throat, killing her instantly.

That was the moment Zevran chose his mark. As was his style he had singled out the best on the field, the one whose death would bring him most glory. He believed she was also the one to bring about his own death. He charged toward her ready to strike watching for more of her lethal arrows. In the time and distance it took him to reach her she had managed to kill three of his archers.

'_Braska!_' he cursed under his breath, he was dimly aware that things were not going as smoothly as he had thought they would. His comrades were locked in battle around him and many had already fallen. Still the purpose was to end it; it was an added bonus if the mission was successful. He had gone to every length to see that happen but should it not, it mattered little.

Finally he stood face to face with the Elven Warden who had now switched to duel daggers. He could tell by the way she held them and by her stance that daggers were not her forte. However, there was a fierceness to her eyes that gave him confidence his end was very close.

He launched a false attack forcing her to block upward and the right exposing her mid-section. Zevran quickly set his other hand to work and swiftly carved a rough Z in her right side. She was marked. It also was a signal to the others she was his mark plus he hoped it would provoke her into attacking him. He had planned to remain open to her incoming attack allowing her easy access to his vital organs so he would fall quickly.

The elf girl barely flinched nor did she respond. She stared at him intently as if studying him. Her piercing gaze drove right to the very core of his soul.

She raised her left hand. Causing Zevran to glance to that side, while she swiftly lifted her right hand above his head bringing the blunt end of her dagger down abruptly cracking him on the side of the head.

Zevran blacked out.


	8. Epic Fail

The battle was over. Thankfully all casualties were on the side of the offensive team. The group searched the fallen bodies, taking from their dead bodies all that could be taken. What couldn't be used would be sold for coin.

Kyerra wandered over to where the Elven Assassin had fallen and looked at the crumpled form that lay at her feet. His head bled profusely from where she had struck him. Many questions plagued her mind. She saw he wanted to die; he had invited her to kill him. She desperately had wanted to strike him down. He had cut into her and she saw his smirk he gave her when he did, but something stayed her hand.

"He is still breathing" Alistair exclaimed "What should we do?"

Kyerra said nothing but bent down and examined him. Looking him over she could not help but notice how pleasing he was to look at in face and features, so unlike the elves she was accustomed to. He had a distinctive face tattoo that ran from his temple to his jaw. Very similar in nature to the Blood Markings the Dalish used however its design was unfamiliar. His blood soaked blonde hair had been braided neatly and his clothes were immaculately made but the style was uncommon to her. He was obviously a flat ear, a city elf but his tattooed face confused and annoyed her.

She resisted the urge to spit on him. She had only just learned a few weeks ago that her father had been killed by a flat ear, and here was another so willing to take her life. Truly they were as she had been taught, no better than a Shem, worse even for choosing to be like a Shem over one of their own kind.

She stood up and searched through the overturned wagons and found some canteens of water, some rags and some rope. She went back to the unconscious assassin and tied him up and then began to wash the wound on his skull.

"What are you doing?" Morrigan asked "Just finish him off and let's be going. We really do have pressing issues to deal with."

Kyerra said nothing. She wanted him awake so she could question him. Morrigan sighed frustrated at her silence. She did not appreciate her ignoring her and was growing tired of this Dalish and her 'better than all' attitude and she wandered off to sit in the shade.

The assassin stirred, moaning at first as he came to.

"What….? Oh….? "He raised his hand to his head and felt Kyerra's hand there holding the wet cloth and he opened his eyes. For a moment he had forgotten why he was there and what had happened. He gazed at the crowd before him briefly questioning whether what was happening was real or not, the throbbing pain in his head reassured him it was indeed real and not some dream.

Kyerra replaced her hand with his and had him hold the cloth to his head and stood up and stared coldly down at him waiting for him to recover enough so she could begin questioning him. The others stood behind her waiting to see what eventuated.

Zevran was the first to speak "I suppose you have a reason for why you have not killed me yet, yes?" "Let me guess, you wish to interrogate me." He looked down at his bound hands and then back at his captors "Well let me save you some trouble and get straight to the point."

Zevran had to think fast, it was not supposed to have happened like this, he was supposed to be dead but he wasn't. Now he was faced with the fact he had also failed his mission. Which meant he was a dead man anyway, as was the custom of the Crows, to fail meant death. His life was now forfeit. That was not the way he wanted to be remembered. The Crow who failed and was rubbed out like a mistake.

"I am Zevran Arainai. I am an Antivan Crow and I was sent here to kill some Grey Wardens. It is nothing personal you understand, it was just a job."

"A Crow?" Alistair asked "all the way from Antiva?" "What is an Antivan Crow anyway?"

"I can answer that" Leliana answered brightly "They are a highly organised and respected group of assassins, and their fame is widespread." "They are the best and come at great cost, they are hired only by people who want the assurance that the deed will be seen through to completion."

"So we can expect more? Great!" Alistair said.

Zevran was pleased with how the red-head had described the Crows. Indeed they were the best and he had been long proud to be considered one of them. He looked up at the elven girl who had yet to say anything and was beginning to wonder if she could speak at all. She had not taken her eyes off him for a single moment, normally he would have been flattered but in this case he could tell they were not idly admiring him but more likely reading him, like a book. He suddenly felt exposed and wondered what she had been able to tell. '_Perhaps she doesn't need to ask any questions. I wonder how much she knows already_.' His thoughts went back to the moment before he had blacked out, he was sure she had chosen to knock him out and not kill him as he wanted, but why?

Finally Kyerra spoke "Who is the one who sent you?"

"I was hired, by a man named Loghain. He gave no reason why he wanted you dead, just that it was important you are dead."

"Well, we are not dead. What happens now?"

"Well quite possibly another will be sent to finish the job. The Crows do not have their reputation they do because of willingness to fail. Which brings up another interesting point and if you will permit me I have an offer you might like to consider."

"Go ahead." Kyerra said bluntly

"Well I have failed to kill you. This means I am a dead man now as far as the Crows are concerned. If I did not die in the attempt, which in their eyes is the only reason for failure, they will now hunt me down and kill me; it is their way of doing business. I can however be of great use to you I'm sure. I am willing to give to you my services in exchange for your protection." "I knew that taking this mission was a dangerous path to pursue, the Grey Wardens are noted for their exceptional skill in battle and you have more than proven that point today." He said as he glanced around the carnage that lay around them as he spoke as if to accentuate his point. "Enough I believe to give the Crows pause, I don't doubt."

Kyerra was confused. He had wanted to die before she was sure of that but now he was asking to live. She saw no lie in his eyes; he was genuine in his request. "What skills?" Kyerra asked. Alistair snorted and Kyerra looked at him questioningly, not knowing she had inadvertently insulted the assassin.

"Exactly" Alistair said "What skills? I mean look around" "How many assassins does it take to kill a couple of wardens?"

Kyerra's eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to say?" she asked directing her question to Alistair

"Well, look around they are all dead!" Alistair scoffed. "We live!"

Kyerra looked around before speaking "I see a well laid out plan." Turning her gaze back to Zevran she asked. "You were the leader?"

Zevran was surprised to hear her report on his efforts. He had thought her question was one of mockery. It appeared however it was not the case. She was even praising his endeavour. Zevran liked this, and immediately he began to warm to Kyerra.

"Indeed I was." He said almost proudly. "In answer to your question, my skills are varied. I am for the most part an assassin. I strike from stealth and my style is not so much in hand to hand combat but rather to weaken or immobilise a target if not kill outright in one strike, although I can hold my own in a battle."

This raised more questions for Kyerra. She knew he could have easily killed her with that first attack.

"Go on." She said.

"I can also pick locks, disable traps, and scout. I am adept at surveying an area or a target and finding their weaknesses; this can be very handy if you face a target that more than meets your match and I can give advice on tactics. Strength and skill is not always the way to win a battle, I am good at the other ways you might say. I can also make poisons….." He stopped remembering the blade had cut Kyerra with had been poisoned heavily. The dose he had used was highly concentrated. Enough to kill 10 oxen and yet, she was still standing. This was extraordinary; clearly this person was just that. He was beginning to suppose she was Dalish. Her manner alone gave testimony to that. Yet she had had no tattoo, giving him more to ponder.

Kyerra had seen his pause and the minute facial expressions he had shown at the time and wondered what it was he was thinking.

Zevran added at last in an effort to add levity to the intenseness of the situation "I can also stand around and look pretty if you prefer, clean and repair armour, …warm you bed…" he said glancing slightly at Kyerra. Which she didn't miss, but it puzzled her why he thought she would find bed warming a necessary skill. Adding to her conviction that flat ears were indeed very strange.

"…. Fend off unwanted suitors perhaps…?" he added seeing no reaction to his light hearted suggestion. "I am also very familiar with the Crows ways and could warn you should they attempt anything more, sophisticated in the future."

Kyerra studied Zevran for a moment and likewise Zevran studied Kyerra. He was sitting in a position that gave him a wonderful view of her tanned legs and thighs without being obvious in his appraisal of their glorious shape. His thoughts could not help but follow his eyes as they wandered exploring further. His eyes ran upward to her bare mid-drift hovering briefly upon the injury which he had given her. She had still not tended to it; it had bled significantly down her side he was sure it would be causing her great discomfort which she didn't show. His eyes continued in their travels drinking in the scenery, coming to an end at her face. He had seen prettier faces in his time, but this girl bore a special kind of beauty that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Her brilliant blue eyes sat like gems in the midst of her fine sun kissed features. Her hair was a mixture of silver gold and rich golden strands that glimmered in the midday sunshine.

Kyerra bent down, drew his knife and cut his ropes and gave him back his knife and helped him up. She was small and light but there was no mistaking the strength in her arm as she hauled him to an upright position. He was a little shaky and his head was still throbbing. She was only slightly smaller than he was and yet he could not help but feel intimidated slightly in her presence. It was clear she did not approve of him. Yet, she was allowing him to live. Strangely he was happy with this decision.

"What? You're not taking him with us are you?" Alistair exclaimed. Morrigan too had suddenly got up from her spot under the tree and come over.

"Yes. I say he comes, he will be an asset and we need all the help we can get." Kyerra said. She paused, "you wish to argue this point?"

Alistair opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it but Kyerra saw that as a yes and so continued.

"Look around here, and tell me what you see?" she said

"Dead bodies, that's what I see… and none of them from **our** group." "I see someone who is also disloyal, willing to change sides in a heartbeat if it means saving his hide." Alistair sneered.

Kyerra nodded "Let me tell you what I see. I see a trap," pointing from one end of the canyon to the other as she spoke. "One way out, the other blocked. This way out is through a group of armed warriors and a powerful mage. This group has been carefully placed in the centre to ensure the all opposing melee is kept in the centre, where the archers have clear shots. I see many traps put down to prevent or slow down a melee attack on the archers." she paused "I only see one weakness." She stopped. Zevran had been listening to her entire appraisal of his assault and was now keenly interested to hear where it was she thought he had gone wrong. He had thought his plan faultless.

"The archers chosen were hopeless. Had they been Dalish archers we all would be dead. "As for his disloyalty to his employer. He explained that already. He no longer has one." She finished.

"_That's amazing"_ Zevran thought _"She can see the entire plan without error and I guess she is correct. Dalish archers would have been a better choice. She saw it was a trap long before the others. She had been able to dodge that tree; it surely would have landed on her if she had been any less aware or had the slower reflexes of a city dweller. Her skill with her bow was outstanding. He was almost certain now she was Dalish. Zevran was puzzled still by the knowledge the poison he had soaked his blades in still had not affected her."_

Zevran was not usually impressed easily but this strange elven girl had impressed him. A part of him would like to see the Crows attempt another assassination, just to see how things worked out. Deep in thought he barely noticed Alistair's continued objection.

"Hello. He just tried to kill us!" Alistair said exasperated "Let's not forget that." "What's to stop him trying again?"

"We are more valuable alive, at least for now. The assassin has told no lies that matter to us. There are things he has neglected to say, but that is for him to choose. They do not affect us. I should think the one to die should be the one who sent him do you not agree? The assassin is no more than a tool. As he said, this is not personal, so why are you taking it personally? We need to raise an army do we not? Look at our group Alistair. We have not been entirely picky up this point."

Alistair backed down quickly and Morrigan wisely chose to say nothing.

Zevran noted they were afraid of her. He had been correct, Kyerra knew or suspected more than he wanted her to know. His thoughts remained though on what she had said in regard to him being a tool. Those were the words were the same that Master Dario had used '_he was no more than an instrument in his better's hands'_ he was also reminded again as to why he had come here and how terribly his plans had failed. He wasn't sure how he was going to remedy the situation but the Warden's protection at least bought him time. All the time he needed. Perhaps he would be killed by Darkspawn. Zevran liked this thought, even better than his original plan. What better way is there to die than as a hero. Zevran smiled to himself _"Zevran, you have more luck than a cat."_

Zevran seeing that the protests were ended. Turned and swore an oath of service to Kyerra until such time as she saw fit to release him. He promised to be in her debt until she considered it fulfilled and that they could count on him from this day on. Kyerra he chose as the one he swore allegiance to. She had given him his life twice over and in his mind that warranted his service. In his estimation she was the most worthy of his services.

"It is time to move on." Kyerra said.

A short while up the road, Zevran noticed Kyerra slowed. She was breathing deeply had become unsteady on her feet. Eventually she came to a complete stop. She was staring at the ground and blinking. She turned on Zevran and reached for his knife snatching it from its sheath. She looked at it and sniffed, then licked it briefly. Everyone stood watching her, horrified by what she was doing.

Her head recoiled slightly and grimaced, and gave the knife back to Zevran.

"We need to find a place to stop. I cannot go much further, I have been poisoned."

"Poisoned?" Leilana said "Oh dear, do you think you will be alright?'

"I don't know. We will soon find out." Kyerra said.

"You didn't think to tell us this Zevran!" Leliana said angrily.

"To be honest I didn't think it mattered. By all accounts she should be dead already. I am amazed she is still standing. I just figured that maybe she had not been dosed or something. I cannot explain it." Zevran answered almost apologetically.

"The poison is mixture of Deathroot and Deep Mushroom, in a highly concentrated form I'm guessing. Dalish handle these herbs all the time and we have built up a slight immunity to them. So they have little or no effect. In concentrated doses though, I'm not as sure. Only time will tell."

Zevran nodded "This is true – Deathroot and Deep Mushroom and highly concentrated." He was impressed she could tell that from a single lick of his blade. He was as surprised as the others when she had taken back his blade and done that, thinking perhaps it was a bizarre ritual of some sort.

"Is there an antidote?" Leiliana asked

Zevran shook his head "No I'm afraid not."

"She dies and the deal is off." Alistair said to Zevran "Come on, let's set up camp."


	9. Poisoned

The group found a small clearing with a pond close to it, a bit further along the road. Unanimously they agreed it was the best place to stop until Kyerra recovered. By the time they were set up and settled Kyerra had deteriorated quickly. Her vision was blurry and her head felt like it was stuck between two boulders. Kyerra's frequent bouts of vomiting switched to violent stomach cramps taking all of her will not to scream out in pain. Before long, all attempts to move became considerably hampered by the unwillingness of her limbs to move and she was forced to succumb to complete inactivity.

By stern order of Alistair, Zevran was stripped of his weapons and secured by rope to a pole erected in the centre of the camp where he could be easily observed by all. Zevran watched quietly from his assigned position. He was fine with this; it gave him an equal opportunity of observation.

The camp bustled around Kyerra doing what they could to make her comfortable before sharing a quick meal that Leliana had prepared and turning in for the evening, utterly exhausted and spent.

Zevran managed to doze on and off but was alerted to Kyerra's serious decline when she started to writhe and convulse. Seeing that no others were awakened by her plight he slipped out of his bondages and went to her side. She was a lather of sweat, pale and in very bad condition. Remembering Alistair's threat, Zevran knew he must act quickly to assist the warden if she were to survive the night. He remembered once, treatment of a fevered crow involved being immersed in water to cool their temperature. Although Kyerra didn't quite have a fever, it was all he could think of to do.

Zevran bent down and lifted the writhing, dripping elf and carried her to the nearby pond, closely followed by Kitty who thankfully deemed him no threat.

"Fear not my furry friend." Zevran nervously whispered as he eyed the fierce wardog "I wish your mistress no harm. We need to help her get better yes? If you can offer any assistance or advice I would be very much appreciative."

He stripped down until he was dressed only in his smallclothes then uncomfortably he removed Kyerra's clothing down to the same.

_This would be difficult to explain should someone happen along_ Zevran mused, _not to imagine what the warden would do if she were to suddenly become conscious right now._

Hewaded into the cool water and lowered her carefully into the cool shallows, slowly so as not to cause shock to the sharp change of temperature. Kyerra thrashed around wildly and it took all of his strength to hold onto her.

When she eventually settled he sat down on the edge and she lay quietly in his arms but remained in a semi -conscious state.

Zevran smiled and raised his eyebrows as he appraised her near naked form. She had a lovely firm body, taut and athletic, deeply tanned skin that was silky smooth to touch. Kyerra moaned and Zevran noticed her eyes begin flutter open.

"Tamlen?" she said wearily "Is that you? I knew you weren't dead. Thank the Creators!" Kyerra sat up slowly and straddled Zevran throwing her arms around his neck, kissed him passionately. It took Zevran moments before he could respond. Firstly it was sheer shock but then he found it extremely difficult not to give in to the powerful urge stirred by the passionate embrace he was receiving. He knew deep down it would be wrong and pushed Kyerra back gently.

"I am not Tamlen Warden. I am Zevran, you are dreaming… or something."

Kyerra continued her lavish attention, kissing his ears and neck "Tamlen you are always teasing me."

Zevran could feel the warmth of her body close to his through the thin layers of their smallclothes, rubbing intimately against him from the position she was in. He was fast becoming aroused by the situation; desperately he tried to put a stop to things progressing.

"No! No Warden! Seriously… _groan…_as much as I would truly like to continue…_grunt_…you must stop this!"

Kyerra stopped and sat back looking at Zevran "Tamlen, whats wrong? Why don't you want to touch me anymore?" A look of hurt came over her face. "First it was the stupid ruins… what is your excuse this time?"

Zevran frantically trying to bring himself back under control noted the difference in Kyerra's demeanour now from the Warden he had met earlier. The cold faced emotionless warrior elf, had transformed into a passionate vision of womanhood. He was intrigued by this different side to her, but felt a little bit guilty like he was privy to something he shouldn't be.

Kyerra stood up still facing Zevran. "That witch Marethari has sent me away. I hate her for doing this to me. She has cast me off into a land of shems and flat ears and Creator's only know what else." Kyerra's fists began to clench as she ranted. "Was that not enough for her? Has she turned you against me too?"

Zevran felt exhilarated by her depth of fury and the proud stance she had assumed as she stood raging before him. As small as she was she was quite intimidating when angered, and he began to get an inkling why the others avoided making her angry.

"Finally she is rid of me. She saw her chance and she has struck. Now I am adrift with no people, no home, nothing! A sentence worse than death." Kyerra looked away from Zevran and sunk to her knees and bowed her head as sorrow threatened to overtake her. "I can only hope to die soon. That some treacherous Darkspawn take me, and I can put this life behind me." She added weakly.

Zevran looked on as wracking sobs took over giving way to deep grief. As she continued to cry out Kyerra began and rock back and forth nursing her broken heart from all she had lost.

Zevran was awestruck by what he was witnessing. Kyerra sought death as he had originally. Underneath her cool hard façade, she was suffering greatly. His respect for her raised several more points as well as an unspoken understanding of her plight.

Zevran watched helplessly as she went through the motions of her grief until at last she stilled. Zevran was surprised and relieved she had not woken the whole camp and brought them running with swords drawn ready to slay some unknown attacker.

Sensing she was ready to return to camp Zevran helped Kyerra to her feet, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders, led her back to her bedroll. Kyerra was still stuck in her dreamlike state but Zevran was confident that she was now past the worst of it and should pull through by morning. He wondered briefly if she would remember anything of the night's display and what would come of it if she did.

The camp slept and Zevran watched as he sat beside Kyerra, Kitty on the other side of her.

_Alistair be damned_ he thought, if_ the Warden needed him he would be there to assist, in case she should relapse_. It is _interesting how life and or death can take a twist and a turn with no warning whatsoever._ _What to do with this turn of events… what to do_? Zevran had still not come up with an answer by the time the sun rose signalling a new day.

* * *

><p>Kyerra stayed in a subdued state until morning. When she finally stirred, her head pounded, her muscles ached and her mouth felt like something had crawled in there and died.<p>

She tried to sit up but had to lie back down quickly when the world began to spin. The rest of the camp was awake and moving around busily as they prepared for the day ahead. Zevran had returned to his position by the pole earlier before anyone had risen, but left his hands untied deciding. It would not be long before it was realised that he had been loose the night before anyway.

Leliana came directly over to her. "Oh you're awake, I'm so relieved." "How do you feel?" Leliana said to Kyerra when she noticed her stirring.

"I've felt better" Kyerra said trying to open her eyes but finding the light of day too much to take.

"Let me get you some tea." she stopped, noticing her state of undress.

Kyerra seemed so far oblivious to the fact that she was clad only in her underwear. Leliana wondered how and when she got in that state. She flittered about nervously wondering if she should ask or not. In the end Leliana couldn't stand not knowing and mentioned it when she brought her tea over. Kyerra looked down and after a few moments of puzzled astonishment asked Leliana to pass her a dress she had in her pack. She slipped the dress on haphazardly, then stood up unsteadily to straighten it.

Zevran admired the dress intensively as Kyerra smoothed it out. It was an extremely attractive a garment and it very much suited Kyerra, accentuating all her natural feminine features with its body hugging tightness and plunging back & neckline. It was so painfully inviting, eliciting wild notions in Zevran's head. Memories of her in his arms the night before in a near naked state coupled with the passionate kiss he had received was more than his libido could take and his imagination flew into overdrive.

The material was the softest of fine leather, _so soft and silky to touch_, as he _reached out and felt its softness, the warmth of her body through the soft thin leather as he ran his hands down her body._ Across the shoulders was a lynx like fur, not unlike the kind only the richest of nobles wore in Antiva, _he could feel it brushing against his cheek as he kissed her delicate neck, her skin as soft as _…..

His thoughts were broken off by the sound of Leliana speaking again having gained the courage to broach the subject of how Kyerra had gone to bed fully clothed and woken in her undergarments.

"Down boy" Zevran said quietly only loud enough for him to hear.

"Ahh you can blame me for that." Zevran said.

Kyerra and Leliana turned to look at Zevran "What?" They both said.

"You were extremely unwell last night and I took you to the pond to cool your temperature. It worked a treat you will be happy to know. I had to remove your leather armour of course, so it would not be ruined."

"You untied yourself?" Leliana asked "You didn't think you should wake someone to…assist you?"

"I saw no need…"

Leliana frowned unsure about his motives.

Kyerra broke in "What is this about being tied?"

"Alistair had Zevran tied last… night to be sure we were safe." Leliana answered quickly.

Kyerra's eyebrows narrowed for a moment "Thank you, Zevran for helping me." She said glancing at Zevran "I apologise for Alistair's treatment, it will not happen again I assure you."

"You are welcome my dear, but do not concern yourself Warden. I do not resent being tied to things." he chuckled "on the contrary in many situations I have come to enjoy it. It can lead to so many interesting experiences" Zevran laughed lightly slightly relieved and surprised that Kyerra thought little of his intervention the night before other than gratitude. He was sure she would have been displeased or uncomfortable about the notion of him undressing her but he presumed that perhaps the Dalish were less inhibited about such things. However it seemed that he being tied up took precedent over any reaction she might have had.

Leliana shook her head and rolled her eyes. Kyerra squinted her eyes a little as she tried to understand the conversation. She chose to let it pass putting it down to common Shem/Flat ear behaviour which was odd at the best of times.

"Right now just try to rest the best you can. I am glad you did not die by the way." She said now admiring Kyerra's outfit herself.

Kyerra looked up at her and nodded saying "Thank you, Leliana. But no, I need to speak with Alistair."

Kyerra stood up and walked over to where her Alistair was sitting in front of the dwindling campfire..

"I do not want Zevran tied up again!" Kyerra started.

Zevran watched and listened with interest.

"Why should you care? I thought you didn't even like his sort! What is it you call them? Flat-ears?"

"Being a Flat-ear or even a Shem has nothing to do with it Alistair! No one, nothing, should be held against their will." She pointed to Kitty "You don't see my hound tied? He is free to go or to stay. He chooses to stay. How can you know if Zevran is trustworthy if you do not first offer him your trust? How can he prove he is faithful if he is not tempted to do otherwise?" She ranted "I do not want him with us if he does not want to be here. He is free to leave anytime he wants if that is his wish. You Shems disgust me, how you cage, and chain up living things, you put everything inside boxes. Arrg, you even choose to live in them yourselves. I will never understand you."

Zevran's eyebrows rose slightly. "_Free? Did she say free to go if I wished?"_

"That's all well and fine, Kyerra, but I'm more concerned that he might try to assassinate us again?"

"We are more use to him alive."

"So he says. You just, believe him?"

"Yes, I do, but if you prefer him dead then you slay him. You will not force my hand to be like a flat-ear's." She groaned in frustration.

"What do you mean force your hand to be like a flat-ears?"

"I have never killed another elf, to do so would make me like the flat ears that care little for their own kind. If it were in self-defence it would be different but not cold blooded murder."

"But you have no trouble killing humans… in cold blood. Like that man in the cage at Ostagar."

"I give no reprieve for Shems as a Dalish Warrior. The man at Ostagar was different. He was suffering; no creature should be left to suffer. Elvhenen kind are a different matter. Some of my people hold to the belief that flat-ears are still kin… who have lost their way…. Perhaps given the chance, one day they will find their true path and return to it."

"I didn't know that." Alistair said thoughtfully.

Morrigan and Leliana were standing nearby watching the argument and Alistair looked over to them hoping to receive some moral support.

Morrigan simply raised her eyebrows and then resumed cooking breakfast.

Leliana shrugged.

"Fine" sighed Alistair "Have it your way! I guess you're right." "Don't upset yourself anymore… I'm glad you're ok by the way."

Kyerra nodded but didn't move. "Alistair…you want me to lead? Then you have to trust my decisions. I am happy to lead or to follow just let me know what it is to be."

Alistair listened and shuffled his feet nervously wondering if he should continue. "I just find you hard to understand sometimes, and trust is a huge ask when I don't even know you. You say little…"

"It is no easier for me. This, all of this is new to me and strange. I didn't want this, it was forced upon me but I am bound by duty to see it to the end and I will."

"Yes, yes I am sorry Kyerra. I know about your circumstance." Alistair admitted weakly. "I promised Duncan I would help you adjust and I have done little to smooth things for you being so consumed by Duncan's ….." Alistair broke off as his lip began to quiver.

"I am not a babe that needs careful attention. I am quite capable of taking care of my own needs." She waved him off dismissively. "The Dalish rarely show emotion, emotion is seen as weakness. Nor do we dwell on sorrow, we move on quickly after allowing a time of grief. We are taught from an early age to be self-sufficient in all our own needs. We rarely talk or express how we feel. Each individual is unimportant, what matters most is the whole. We watch out for each other not ourselves."

"I am sorry you're not here by choice. That must be hard, but at least you're alive, right?

"No! It would be better that I had died." Kyerra said plainly "This is a fate much worse than death."

"Oh? I am sorry you feel that way." Alistair was shocked by her statement. He had never considered that she would have answered that. The Grey Wardens were everything to him.

"I do not want your pity… but… thank you. I will try harder to be more forgiving of your ways." She sighed "I know I have been difficult. I have been… very angry. But it is time for me to move forward and finish this task which has been set."

"Are you well enough to travel today do you think? If not perhaps you could ride along in Bodhan's cart."

Kyerra opened her mouth to reply angrily to his offer but caught herself, realising he had meant no insult. "I think I will be well enough to leave shortly, and I do not wish to ride in Bodhan's cart."

"Alright then! Good. Onward to Redlciffe it is!" Alistair said cheerily.


	10. Redcliffe Village

**REDCLIFFE VILLAGE**

Zevran picked his way carefully down the rocky decline as the group wound their way down the cliff face road to Redcliffe village. The loose rocks made the task quite difficult; Alistair had thudded onto his armoured rear once already after his feet scooted out from under him. Leliana stopped her humming to giggle, along with the witch Morrigan, who chuckled softly with delight at Alistair's misfortune.

Clearly this party of people were the unlikeliest collection of people, but it often made for much entertainment listening to the occasioned sparring of words, mostly between Alistair and Morrigan.

Leliana seemed to be the only one who worked the hardest at befriending all the members, but Zevran noticed, she had all but given up on Morrigan and Sten; and seemed to have decided to focus her efforts on the Kyerra and himself.

Zevran had already managed to categorize each of his dysfunctional companions quiet easily. Kyerra had been the most difficult; but her morning speech coupled with her delusional outburst at the pond the night before, filled in many gaps.

Alistair was a shy Templar trained warrior, had led a sheltered life, and was most likely a virgin; judging by the different shades of red he turned whenever the subject of sex came up; and was definitely only attracted to women.

Morrigan was an exotic beauty; not at ease with anyone and preferred solitude. From what Zevran could determine, she was orientated sexually towards males; he wasn't completely sure, more testing was needed. She camouflaged her social insecurities with her intelligence and knowledge. Her skill at shooting uncomfortable conversation down with witty remarks was impressive, but it was all a charade to hide the fact she felt vulnerable.

Sten was, well just Sten; a warrior born and bred to fight. He knew nothing else and nothing else interested him; he went no deeper than that. He was fearless, strong, and quiet for the most part. He kept to himself and paid little attention to what was going on; unless a fight was involved he was not interested. Zevran knew very little of the Qunari; what he did know was they were extremely hard to kill and had a high tolerance for pain; if you didn't kill one outright, you would more than likely lose the ensuing battle. Zevran was sure that the act of sex would be purely for the making little Qunaris; he did not envision it being a recreational pastime.

Then there was dear sweet Leliana, who underneath her devoted Chantry façade was far from sweet, Zevran suspected. Different things she said, and a few things she did, diminished the ruse she tried to uphold; showing underneath a subtle kind of street smartness; she had undoubtedly seen more action than most. Zevran believed she was attracted to women as much as she was to men, and would likely swing either way depending on the situation at the time, as he would. Zevran felt most at ease with Leliana, who to date had been the most accepting of him and less judgemental, so far. Also because he suspected they shared a similar background; although he couldn't quite tell how similar.

Which left Kyerra; she was indeed Dalish, and highly skilled with a bow. She had the ability to see things that appeared invisible to everyone else. She could see seemingly imperceptible tracks, and sense changes in the atmosphere or environment; Zevran still marvelled that she had been able to identify poison by smell and taste. Her natural gifts were almost eerie. She was physically and emotionally strong, fearless, intelligent and very good at keeping all her thoughts and emotions completely to herself, she gave nothing away, absolutely nothing. Of all the companions, Zevran admired her the most.

Zevran was vaguely familiar with the Dalish and he knew of their silent and unfriendly ways towards strangers, even elves. Only amongst themselves and other Dalish, did they seem softer and more open. They were a fierce group of people, and emphatically proud of whom they were. He suspected she had feelings of vulnerability being away from her clan, amidst people she despised and knew little of. Zevran had only lasted three days after trying the life of a Dalish Elf once long ago, before he went running back to the city, and he was a hardened Crow. He was impressed she had been away over three weeks now, giving rise to several more points in his approval of her.

Zevran found it difficult to gauge Kyerra's reactions and feelings on matters. Something in his trade he relied heavily upon, which made things more challenging. Made worse by the fact she didn't like to talk much either. She was like a locked up book. He wanted to ask her about all the things he had learned at the pond, but he couldn't ask without her knowing that she had revealed things to him, she probably didn't want him to know. He understood well, the fact that the Dalish did not like to discuss things in the past or their emotions; he shared this similarity with her, as an Antivan Crow. He saw many similarities with his life within the Crows and the life of a Dalish.

Something Zevran's thoughts were continually drawn back to was the passion he had witnessed in her, like a moth to a candle flame. Watching the total metamorphosis of Kyerra, from cold and dead, to fire and life, had exhilarated him and aroused a fervent lust in him, but along with it came memories of Rinna and the feelings he once had for her. Because of this he knew it would be foolish to travel down this path again. Zevran decided he would resist the urge to attempt to bed Kyerra, as difficult as that was going to be. She had too much potential to stir his heart as Rinna had. He had learnt his last lesson well. He had been given a chance to re-start his life, he would not waste it.

Alistair steps slowed and faltered for a moment, and then he stopped the group. "There is something I need to say before we enter Redcliffe, I should have told you before but, well I was hoping I wouldn't have to."

"What is it Alistair?" Kyerra answered.

"Well, you see. I'm a bastard."

Morrigan laughed.

"What do you mean?" Kyerra asked.

"Errr… my parents were not married, when I was conceived and born."

"So?" Kyerra urged.

Alistair sighed and blurted. "My father was King Maric, King Cailan was my half-brother."

"And?"Kyerra asked still confused.

"And this means Alistair is a possible heir to the throne." Leliana finished for him, clapping gleefully in delight. "That is wonderful news Alistair! Why would you hide such a thing? There is no need to be ashamed, you are amongst friends."

"Hmmn, yes, well, I'm not ashamed and I am **not** in line for the throne. It was made clear to me, that would never be in my future and I am glad of it. You have no idea how many nightmares I've had regarding that prospect. I'm only telling everyone now, because… well it might come up, that's all." Alistair smiled weakly.

Kyerra thought for a moment before replying. "Okay. Thank you for telling us Alistair. Is that it?"

Alistair nodded.

Kyerra nodded once in affirmation. "Good. Let us go then."

They came down and around the last bend and found themselves on a levelled out area at the entrance of Redcliffe Village. A road that led to the village forked to the right and another went straight ahead, which led to the castle. There was an old stone bridge spanning a gushing freshwater stream that flowed down the cliff and emptied into Calenhad Lake.

Kyerra held up her hand to signal the group to stop. She sensed something. She scanned the area and moved off slowly and cautiously as if on a high alert.

"There is something not right here." she said quietly "I feel it, I have experienced this before, the air is strange, it is almost like it is thicker and colder, there is a strange smell and the air is still and empty of sound. Like… when I was in the ruins that day, with… Tamlen."

"Darkspawn? I don't sense any." Alistair stated. "I would feel them if they were present."

Kyerra shook her head "No, not darkspawn, death. I sense death and the chill of evil."

The rest of the group stop to consider this statement; Kyerra was right, it was deathly quiet and the atmosphere was definitely strange. Everyone became considerably more wary as they continued onward.

They crossed the bridge and were soon greeted by a skittish young man with long messy mousey coloured hair. He had been positioned as a scout on the other side, at the beginning of Redliffe road. The man was very fearful; his speech rushed and urgent. He offered to take them down into the village, to the Chantry, to speak with the man in charge.

He told the group, on the way down, Redcliffe was experiencing troubles of their own. The Arl was very sick and no one had been able to get into the castle to see him, in over a week. The village night after night had been attacked by un-dead creatures, which came from inside the castle. Most people believed the Arl was dead along with everyone else inside.

Zevran noticed Kyerra remained edgy; her eyes flitted back and forth, reacting to every sound as they walked through the village. Before the party entered the Chantry, Kyerra had paused and took a noticeable deep breath and entered cautiously; he wondered if she had seen a village, or been inside a building before. Boxes she had called them, in her eyes, _shems_ and city elves, lived in boxes.

They were introduced immediately, to Bann Teagan, the Arl's brother.

Anxiously Alistair greeted the Bann "Hello Bann Teagan. I don't know if you remember me, the last time you saw me I was covered in mud."

"Alistair? Is that you?" the Bann exclaimed. "So, not all the Grey Wardens are dead! I am very happy to see you; I only wish it could be under better circumstances."

The Bann discussed in depth the details of the village's hardships and the group decided to assist the town in whatever way they could, much to Morrigan's displeasure.

To prepare for the night's battle ahead they were instructed to meet with Murdoch, Mayor of the town.

Murdoch was a middle aged, rugged man, and totally ill equipped for the role of leader of a town; let alone head a bunch of inexperienced militia. Murdoch was already expecting them. The young man, who escorted the group into the village, had already relayed to Murdoch that they had agreed to assist with the night's upcoming battle; he greeted them rather ineptly.

"So you are the bunch of people the Bann has organised to help us tonight; Grey Wardens I am told. Strange, I didn't think they let women be Grey Wardens and an elf on top of it." He commented as he rubbed the stubble on his unshaven chin.

Alistair grabbed Kyerra's arm as it moved across to draw her dagger. The action frightened Murdoch he added quickly, "Not to appear ungrateful, of course."

"That's good; the survival rate of ingrates is remarkable slim I hear." Zevran snarled, irritated by the man's impolite greeting.

"What is it you need us to do?" Alistair asked hopefully, diverting the likelihood of tensions escalating.

"Well," Murdoch scratched his head as he thought. "The first thing would be the smithy. He has locked himself inside his shop and refuses to help equip the men effectively. It would be a good thing if he could be convinced to change his mind. Then there is Dwyn; he has locked himself in his house over yonder." Murdoch gestured in the direction the man's house was located, at the back of a myriad of boardwalks that spread amongst many rundown wooden houses. "He refuses to help fight alongside the men. He and his men are good fighters, changing his mind would increase our chances of survival; really anyone else you can convince to fight that isn't already fighting, would be a good thing I guess. There is also a young lassie by the name of Kaitlyn; her brother is missing and she asked me to look for him, but I'm much too busy."

_Pfft, oh yes we all see how __**busy**__ you are,_ Zevran thought quietly.

"So keep an eye out for him, if you do find him, Kaitlyn can be found inside the Chantry. If you need supplies, you can get those in the Tavern at the top of the hill. While you are up that way, a bit further up, across the stone bridge, and up some steps, you will find Ser Parth; he is the one in charge of the castle's knights, you might want to speak to him."

It took most of the day, but the group were able to fulfil every request, including finding the young missing boy. Kaitlyn was extremely grateful and thanked them heartily for finding her brother. Zevran was hopeful they may hook up again later; she had blushed profusely when Zevran flirted with her; as was his way with every female, and the odd handsome male, he came across. He was certain the barmaid Bella, which he flirted with at the tavern while the others arranged lodgings and obtained supplies, was keen to meet again with him again. Zevran smirked at the potential opportunity arising to meet with both the young ladies later.

Having done all they could in preparation, the party took a brief opportunity to rest on the red sandy shore of Lake Calenhad.

"Is this the sea?"Kyerra asked in complete awe.

Leliana was the one to answer her. "No, this is a lake. Lake Calenhad is its name. The sea is bigger and is salty. This is fresh water; it is a bit like an inland sea."

Zevran sat down and gazed over the choppy surface water of the lake, amused by the constant wrinkled expression on Kyerra's face; she had still not gotten used to the distinct smell of fish that rode the air. He soon drifted off to thoughts of Antiva. He began to wonder how Kyerra would have reacted to the putrid stench of the tannery near Antiva City's dockyards; as horrid as the smell was, he found himself missing it; at that moment, he found himself willing to trade it in a heartbeat, for the fishy smell of Redcliffe.

Even the lake's water was dull and lifeless looking; everything about Ferelden was dull and lifeless. He compared this view to the warm liquid sapphire waters of Rialto Bay. He recalled the day his ship sailed out of from Antiva, the sun had danced upon the small wave crests, causing it to sparkle brilliantly like millions of the exquisite gems. He was greeted by rain, fog and cold, the day and several days afterwards, upon arriving in Ferelden. At least it was not raining today.

_Kyerra's eyes are a similar colouring of blue to the waters of Rialto Bay_ Zevran mused. He looked over at her. She was running her hand across the lettering on a sign which warned against swimming in the lake.

"Are these letters?" Kyerra asked, directing her question to Leliana.

"Yes, they make up words; it says 'no swimming'; most likely because it is too dangerous.

"I cannot even read my own language."Kyerra frowned. "Most of the language of the elves has been lost to us, only the Keepers know the little of it that is left." Her finger traced the 'S' and then she looked down at her stomach. "This looks the same as that" she stated, pointing to the rough 'Z' shaped scab on the right-hand side of her abdomen.

"No, not quite… that is a 'Z' the other is an 'S'."

"It is like writing on me."

Leliana became uncomfortable. "Yes."

"But it is not a word?"

"No. I don't think Zevran had time to write his whole name."

"Name? What do you mean?"

"Z is the first letter of Zevran's name."

Kyerra glanced at Zevran thoughtfully and then back at her stomach and said nothing more.

Zevran had not given much thought to the 'Z' he had carved into Kyerra at their first meeting. He wondered what her reaction was to it, as usual, she gave no clue. It would remain a scar and she would forever bear that mark; his mark.


	11. Battle For Redcliffe

As evening drew nearer, the group gathered with the knights in front of the windmill that stood majestically like a watchtower at the top of a huge cliff face above the lake.

Barricades coated in oil had been erected across the roadway into Redcliffe, and pits dug underneath them and filled with the leftover oil originally scavenged from the General Store earlier. The plan was to light them, creating a fiery deterrent, or at least set alight any creature that dared pass through. Zevran voiced his disapproval, doubting it would work as effectively as they believed it would; he was concerned it would make their enemy more of a hazard, however his protest was overruled and so he said nothing more on the subject.

Ser Parth noticed Kyerra was equipped with a bow and arrows. "Your arrows will be virtually useless against what we are facing tonight, have you something else to fight with?"

"I have my daggers," Kyerra answered. "I am much less skilled with those."

"That could be a problem then," The knight grimaced. "All the men have maces, hammers and clubs, they are the most effective. Swords are ok if you can manage to slice through the joints. Aim for their legs, or cut off their arms."

Zevran laughed "A novel way of _dis-arming_ your foe and making sure they stay that way, I like it."

"My daggers are elvhenen, they have a blade on one side that _can_ slice, but, I am hesitant to fight like this; Dalish women are not trained as warriors, the little skill I have has been taught to me by a friend." Zevran's eyes narrowed when he heard this; he knew from the time he faced her as an opponent, melee was indeed a weakness for her, a weakness in the future that he should perhaps offer to remedy.

Kyerra looked over at the other bowman, a skittish elf named Berwick she had convinced to help protect the village; after cornering him in the tavern. Upon questioning him the party learned he had been sent to spy on the comings and the goings of the castle by Arl Howe. Kyerra seized upon the opportunity to recruit another fighter. Unwillingly, but too afraid to push the subject with her, he had agreed. Impressively, she even managed to intimidate the tavern owner Lloyd, into assisting in the battle; much to his well broadcast disgust and outrage at the prospect. He was a sleazy _shem_ who enjoyed taking advantage of his tavern help, Kyerra took an instant dislike to him when he made racist comments about the Dalish directly to her, her dislike quickly changed to hatred upon hearing from Bella that he took sexual liberties with her.

Kyerra went over to Berwick to inform him of what Ser Parth had told her, so he could prepare with something else or seek shelter. Luckily he could also wield a long sword. She then returned and stood next to Zevran.

Kyerra was anxious; she knew her skill with daggers was pitiful and she wished she had learned more from Tamlen before now. _I could try to aim my arrows at their joints in an effort to slice through them like a sword, or maybe I could try pinning their feet to the ground_. In the end she decided it would prove too much a difficult feat to pull off even with her skill at archery.

"Why are Dalish women not allowed to train as warriors?" Zevran asked.

"Women are the breeders of the clan. One man can father many children, but a woman only has one at a time, usually, which makes her more valuable to the clan's survival. It is a dishonour to be a warrior woman; only a barren woman may learn to fight with weapons, otherwise they are only permitted to train with bows, as hunters. If the clan are attacked, they would only defend with a bow, the men take the front line."

"So you were breaking the rules then?"

Kyerra looked sideways wondering why he would ask that and answered. "Yes – as is many times my way." She watched for a reaction to see why he may have asked, but Zevran gave none.

Kyerra smelt rain, and looked up at the sky to see many clouds were forming above.

"What would happen if you were found out?"

"It is going to rain hard very soon, the fires will not work." She stated then looked back at Zevran and replied. "Punishment would be harsh."

The others looked up and grumbled at the news. Zevran nodded, deep in thought about what she had just revealed to him in that conversation.

"We can maybe use the rain to our advantage. Morrigan can you freeze water?" Kyerra asked briskly.

"Yes, I can."

"We need to form a line of men at the entrance near the barricades to force the creatures to bunch together, the rain will gather in the ditches you dug for the oil. Morrigan can then freeze it and them, it should trap them there for a while to give you time to thin out their numbers."

Zevran and several of the knights listening nodded with approval.

"That's a splendid idea Warden!" Ser Parth replied.

Kyerra nodded in acknowledge and then stood quietly. A few moments passed before she said quietly to Zevran. "I will back in a moment."

Zevran watched as Kyerra dashed off back down to the village. She soon returned with a light wooden pole about the same length as her height. She then went further back behind the group and began to swing it around for a few moments. When she had finished, she stopped and removed her boots and all her armour, until she stood in only her underclothes, before returning to stand with the startled group.

Ser Parth's knights' heads turned away, Dwyn and his offsiders leered, and Berwick coughed and spluttered after nearly choking; Zevran just watched luridly, as the semi-naked Kyerra approached them. She was wearing a leather top cut above her midrift and secured over one shoulder, her pants were also made of leather and little more than a skimpy loin cloth forming a flap like skirt at the front and back that sat loosely across her hips, presumably covering two V-shape pieces of leather retaining modesty at the front and back.

"Warden, I did not realise the invitation stated casual attire. I believe am way over dressed, as are many others I think. Do we have time to change?" Zevran chuckled.

"Kyerra! Put your clothes back on!" Alistair blushed, suddenly aware of Kyerra's state of dress. "You can't just walk around in your underwear!"

Kyerra was puzzled, "why not?"

"Because it's wrong…that's why."

"All the Dalish wear this, you don't think we wear armour all day and night do you. You _shemlan_ are very _strange_." She frowned and shook her head.

Leliana could not hold back a giggle. Even Morrigan smiled ever so slightly.

Kyerra held up her staff. "I am going to use this." She told them. "Tamlen and I used to fight with these for fun, they are really used for dancing but we found a way in which to use them as a weapon. I can knock the things over, and the fighters with blades can cut off their legs and arms. The others can break them into dust. I will be more use to you this way."

As predicated the rain fell soon after sunset, and fell hard. The fighters were all drenched and uncomfortable. Moral began to drop along with the temperature. At least the ditch full of oil, filled with water, that plan at least should work.

One of the watchers cried out, and everyone looked towards the castle. Many silhouetted forms could be seen making their way down the hill towards them. The battle was about to commence.

Kyerra grabbed her staff and knelt down, she placed it before her and then began to gesture; to the onlookers it looked like a ritual or a prayer.

Everyone took their places. The armoured knights formed a wall of men across the opening in the barricades, and blocked the creatures' entry.

Morrigan stood poised ready to use her magic to freeze the water when sufficient numbers had gathered. The rest stood behind the knights in the ready to hack and smash anything that broke through.

Alistair stood alongside, Sten, Zevran, Leliana, Kyerra and Kitty beside her. Dwyn and his men, along with Berwick positioned themselves off to the left. Morrigan remained at the very rear and in the centre of both groups.

The first wave of creatures reached the barricade, when Morrigan was satisfied enough were congregated, she cast her freeze spell and the water quickly froze to a solid block of ice encasing the feet and ankles of several un-dead, succeeding in blocking many of the others behind them.

The knights wasted no time and began to hack and slash through the wall of trapped corpses. The others waiting behind but un-trapped by the ice, began to spread out and slowly make their way over the barricades.

The back row of fighters sprang into action, each selecting their own target and dispatching them quickly. As more and more creatures came, they spilled over the barricades and the fighters soon found they were overwhelmed.

Morrigan soon learned that the re-animated corpses were immune to the remainder of her spells, in a flash decision she transformed into a spider and sprayed web over the barricade which helped to entangle the creatures that tried to scale it, buying more time for the warriors to deal with them before they made it over the barricade. For the rest of the battle she remained a spider and skittered back and forth replenished the web when required.

Very soon the area became slippery with churned up mud. The fighters found it increasingly difficult to manoeuvre under those conditions.

Kyerra then did something very strange; moving forward she lay down in the mud and rolled around, then sitting up she scooped handfuls to her face and hair, and any parts of her body she had missed. Some of the others watched completely perplexed by her actions. When she stood up she was covered with mud from head to toe, and all you could see were the whites of her eyes. It was then they realised what she had been doing. She now was completely blended in to the surroundings making her extremely difficult to spot.

"Spread out and make room between each other; I will try and knock them down as they come over near you, as they fall you finish them off."

Kyerra began to twirl her stick vertically in front of her in a clockwise direction, as she moved forward towards her targets weaving in and out between the braced warriors; she spun it at her left side and then her right side still twirling. In a flurry of sharp precise moves she began to swing, left then right and left again knocking over everything she struck. Then she would turn abruptly where she stood and target another lot. A large group of them gathered near Alistair and he attempted to shield bash them, knocking two down, Kyerra quickly manoeuvred acrobatically in a forward roll over to him and in one movement spun around low and hard with her staff extended horizontally, striking at the legs of the skeletal creatures, knocking them out from underneath them and they all fell in a heap. Alistair gleefully finished them off as Kyerra then leapt and flipped across to the other end of the barricades and repeated the process. Back and forth and in and out she leapt and sprang, and struck and spun and struck again, managing to keep most of the vile monsters, immobile. One by one her companions hacked off limbs preventing further movement and attacks. Those equipped with hammers, maces and clubs smashed them into tiny pieces.

Soon the waves stopped coming, and the battle came to an end. Kyerra was exhausted and was forced to sit awhile and try to regain her energy.

Not a single man or women was lost in the battle, and only very mild injuries were sustained.

"We did it!" Ser Parth cheered and the crowd cheered in agreement. Ser Parth turned to Kyerra and addressed her. "That is a very useful skill Warden; it proved very effective in this case. Thank you, thank you, all of you for your assistance tonight."

Not five minutes had passed when one of the militia men came running up the hill, calling frantically for assistance. The creatures had changed tactics and were now attacking from the waterfront.

"Stay here Ser Parth with your knights to guard this way into the village," Alistair commanded. "Our group, Dwyn and his men will go down and assist the men. Berwick you should come too."

The group ran down the hill and sure enough swarms of the semi-decomposed corpses were rampaging through the compound, the last defence of the Chantry. If they succeeded in breaking through the people taking refuge inside would surely perish.

Kyerra was still tired and had only just regained her breath a little. "I will do what I can to thin these ones down. Zevran I need you to shadow me and deal with whatever I manage to knock down."

Zevran nodded and followed Kyerra as she chose each of her targets and moved in.

Kyerra kept her movements to a minimum in an effort to conserve the stamina she had left. Instead she focused on hard precise strikes upon a selected individual, using strength and force. She often hit with such intensity, bones could be heard cracking and splintering. Zevran then with lightning fast moves made sure the creature was permanently disabled.

When the numbers were sufficiently thinned Kyerra pulled back and went further up the hill, her energy depleted fully, she collapsed to the ground. She picked up her bow and arrows and armed herself with those.

The others continued to fight, and Kyerra sat and watched; scanning the crowd until she found what she was looking for - Lloyd, the owner of the tavern; he was being attacked by three creatures; she saw that Zevran was trying to help him subdue them. Kyerra stood slowly aiming carefully she sent a single arrow in their direction. Zevran's head spun as he heard it fly past, he then witnessed Lloyd fall with an arrow embedded in his neck. Zevran gazed back up the hill to see Kyerra standing challengingly, slowly lowering her bow. Zevran thought for a moment, and then nodded slightly as if coming to some unspoken understanding. Kyerra nodded in reply and sat back down. Zevran bent down and removed the arrow from Lloyd's neck and threw it away.

The battle was over; many of the militia had fallen, including Murdoch. Lloyd was the only other casualty. No one witnessed how he fell and no one cared enough to bother to check him over. He was just piled up unceremoniously with the other dead to be cremated.

Thoroughly exhausted the companions made their way back up to the tavern, with the remaining villagers for the evening. Moral was a mixture of highs and lows, thrilled by the night's victory but saddened by the loss of friends and loved ones.

A few words were spoken in the tavern for the dead and then the drinks were on the house for all to honour the occasion.

Zevran wasted no time in cleaning himself up and continuing his liaisons with Kaitlyn and Bella. He left early with Kaitlyn. Kyerra saw him leave; he however did not notice her sitting outside in the shadows with the dog. She had left the tavern earlier in the night, finding inside too uncomfortable for her. Kyerra watched the two lovers in the spotlight of the bright full moon, as they walked down the hill in direction of Kaitlyn's house, Kaitlyn upon his arm giggling at Zevran's flirtatious comments. They stopped briefly at her door to talk, kissed and then entered her home.

Kyerra was suddenly consumed with longing, she missed Tamlen so much. Tears formed in her eyes and began to fall. Alone with only her mabari for company, Kyerra gazed through misty eyes across the moonlit Redcliffe landscape from her vantage point beside the tavern. Wishing it was her aravel porch on which she sat, with only the trees of the forest as her view.

After a time, weariness began to set in. "Come Kitty, it is time for us go to bed." Kyerra stood up and walked down the hill with the Mabari and continued onto the beach. She gathered enough wood for a small fire and lit it and laid out her bed roll, establishing her camp for the night.

"I should wash first. I am a bit dirty." Kyerra smiled at her hound. She walked over to the mouth of the freshwater stream where it emptied into the lake, and removed the last of her clothing and began to bathe and wash her clothes.


	12. Under A Moonlit Sky

_*** Be warned** - moderately graphic sex scenes ahead..._

* * *

><p>"Thank you for escorting me home Zevran. Are you coming inside?" Kaitlyn asked shyly. Zevran saw a faint blush on her moonlit face.<p>

"Hmm, well of course my dear, how could I refuse such a fine offer from such a delightful young lady?" Zevran replied taking another step closer to Kaitlyn and pulling her into a tight embrace, pressing his lips against hers. "I take it you have the house all to yourself tonight?" he kissed her again.

"Mmhmm." Kaitlyn responded before turning to open the door to her house. She stood back to allow Zevran to enter first.

"Oh no," he grinned tipping his head slightly, "after you,_ signora_."

Kaitlyn blushed and giggled then went inside.

Kaitlyn took Zevran by the hand and dragged him up to her tiny room. Once up there Zevran resumed kissing her while skilfully removing her clothes one piece at a time, kissing her gently on her newly bared flesh, one kiss for every item of clothing. Kaitlyn's head lolled backwards as his mouth made his way down her body he continued this treatment until she was standing before him fully naked. Zevran reached down and cupped a soft buttock in each hand pulling her to him, kneading and squeezing the ample flesh in his grasp as his tongue wrestled with hers, he lifted her slightly before placing her gently down onto her small bed.

Zevran removed his own clothes as Kaitlyn looked on with heavy lidded eyes admiring his tanned, chiselled physique; he took his time enjoying the worship her expression laid on him. Kaitlyn grinned broadly when Zevran finally joined her on the bed, kneeling between her legs. Zevran began to caress gently between her legs, smiling luridly as he lent in to suckle the soft warm flesh of her breasts, stroking and teasing each pert nipple with his tongue. Kaitlyn writhed against his hand as it worked its well learned craft skilfully, Kaitlyn's throaty moan encouraged Zevran to begin to massage deep within her hot moist centre, Kaitlyn's hips bucked involuntarily upward wordlessly begging him for more.

Their bodies were soon entwined passionately; wringing cries of ecstasy from her as she reached her peak; Zevran followed shortly after, his chest heaving from exertion, he lay beside her slightly cramped from lack of space.

"Mmmm Zevran, you are the best ever," Kaitlyn purred.

Zevran smirked and kissed her softly. "I am honoured by your pleasure my dear. As much as I would love to stay and indulge you further, regrettably I must leave now if I am to get at least _some_ sleep tonight; placing a well-timed tender kiss to her hand Zevran got up and haphazardly redressed as Kaitlyn looked on.

"You don't fool me Zevran, you are leaving my bed only in hopes of _indulging_ Bella now," Kaitlyn pouted.

"Who can say what might happen on the way to my bed, come now this look you wear spoils your pretty face. Do not be angry with me, hmmm. Perhaps I will still be here tomorrow and we can play some more." He lent down and kissed her again and she grasped his wrist.

"Promise?"

"I promise, I will try my dear." Zevran smiled.

As Zevran closed the door behind him a flicker of a flame caught his eye in the direction of the beach. Quietly he headed in that direction to investigate, wondering if it were more of those horrid creatures. Creeping silently amongst the buildings and keeping to the shadows, he made his way to a safe place from which he could observe the scene unhindered.

He noticed first the form of a dog and soon recognised it a Kyerra's mabari, Kitty.

_But where is Kyerra_? He wondered. Anxiously he scanned the beach. He spotted a lithe female form in the distance, Zevran moved in closer, remaining in stealth for no real reason other than habit.

Kyerra was totally naked and bathing in the freshwater stream that flowed down from the mountain. Fully lit by the moon, she almost glowed giving her a surreal appearance, as if a vision. Zevran blinked and held his breath as if breathing would make the scene disappear again; it truly was a beautiful sight. As he watched her bathe in awe, he was reminded of similar dreams he had like this one, which always ended in hot passionate sex. His mind filled to overflowing with thoughts of desire, which quickly travelled downwards to his loins.

Zevran's mind conjured up vivid pictures… _myriads of stream chilled droplets of water running down the length of her tanned lithe body as she scooped handfuls of clean water over herself, washing away the day's filth. He raised his hand toward her, finger outstretched, he ran it down the length of Kyerra's spine, feeling her shudder at his touch… , you must stop this self-torture Zevran if you wish to succeed in abstaining from her _he chided himself, snapping instantly from his trance.

Kyerra was finishing by washing out her clothes from the day. He slowly turned from the scene willing his legs to move away; only once did he look back and he caught her walking back towards her fire.

_Surely she is not planning to sleep on the beach tonight,_ he pondered_. Not after Leliana's tales of sea monsters and such, I am sure they are nothing more than myth and legend but_… _what if those creatures from the castle should return? They were very real… it is not an entirely safe thing to be doing. _Zevran mused on the way back to the tavern.

Try as he might, repeated visions of Kyerra's naked moonlit bath flashed across his thoughts. He paused outside the tavern door wondering momentarily if he would discover he had been locked out at this early hour of the morning. Tentatively he turned the knob, with relief he found it unlocked. Silently he pushed open the door and crept inside to find Bella leaning across the bar throwing back the last of her drink.

"I nearly gave up on yer and went t' bed," She drawled, her speech slightly affected by alcohol. "I was bettin to meself, that Kaitlyn would be a selfish bitch and keep yer all to 'erself for tha night. I see yer escaped though." A wide grin spread across her face. "Just in time to tuck me in you is."

"Am I indeed now, well surely the Maker has smiled at me tonight." Zevran replied huskily.

Casually he walked toward her and joined her behind the bar; Bella flung her arms around his neck and pulled Zevran roughly to her for a heated kiss; running his hands behind her to the small of her back he returned the kiss, his lips pressed hard against hers and kissed her fervently. She moaned and lifted his tunic up and over his head, almost tearing it off him. Zevran heftily hoisted her onto the bar and Bella wrapped her legs around the back of his thighs pulling him to her she rubbed against him suggestively and began to kiss and suck his ears. Zevran shuddered and gasped already highly aroused.

Zevran pushed Bella downward until she lay upon the bar, pulling her smallclothes out of the way, he began to work at her with his tongue. Bella thrashed her body wildly several times and threw her head from side to side in frustration as he feverishly teased her driving her almost insane with lust. Bella sat up and stretcher her fingers to the laces of his leather pants and untied them, freeing his fully aroused member.

Zevran pulled Bella to him and hoisted her up and off the bar perching her around his hips, in one powerful movement he spun her around, slamming her back against the wall behind them. He drove into her furiously from this position, driven by fleeting images of Kyerra bathing. Covering Bella's lust spawned shouts with his mouth, to dampen the sound as they both came. Totally spent he lowered Bella carefully, steadying her with the weight of his body against her.

He stood resting his forehead on the wall as he regained his breath. Bella's back against the wall she turned her head sideways to look at Zevran. Slowly he returned her gaze and smiled, he stroked her face wordlessly.

"Shall we retire t' me room then? When yer can walk again that is?" She purred seductively.

"I am not quite sure that would be wise _mia bella, _I imagine you wish to have your wicked way with me all night yes? However will I get my rest before tomorrow?" He smiled languidly.

Bella sighed "I s'pose, as long as y' promise to stay w' me tomorra night."

"I would promise, except there is no knowing what tomorrow will bring, let us just wait and see yes? Fare thee well my wicked temptress." He kissed her on the nose as he readjusted his clothes and then bent down to retrieve his discarded tunic. With great flourish and grace he bowed and backed out of the room, blowing a final kiss as he exited.

On the stairs to his room Zevran let out a long sigh with a combination of weariness and contentment_. An interesting and exhausting night,_ he thought to himself as he quietly made his way to his room and slipped into his bed, managing not to disturb any of his sleeping comrades. Finally he was able to close his eyes. Zevran waited for sleep to claim him.

He dozed off only to be woken by a nightmare consisting of Kyerra being dragged out to sea by a hideous sea monster. _ Zevran, I think wisdom demands that the Warden should not spend the night alone down there; surely you do not believe such ridiculous tales of sea monsters and such, no… but I should be there to be sure she remains safe, yes. What of her pride? She doesn't have to know I'm even there; I will leave before she wakes and her pride will not be tangled with. Pfft, so much for the comforts of a warm bed. _Zevran sighed out loud and got back out of his bed and replaced his clothes, grabbing a blanket, headed back to the beachfront.

Zevran made his way soundlessly to a wooden porch that overlooked Kyerra's makeshift camp. He sat himself down wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and leaned his back against the wooden wall, resting his arms upon his upright knees. Kyerra was safe, and looked to be asleep, her dog beside her. Zevran allowed his head to lean back against the rough wooden slats. _I thought the days of all night vigils were behind me_ he chuckled inwardly. "Sleep well Kyerra." Zevran whispered and snickered quietly.

Zevran must have drifted off to sleep at some point because the next thing he knew he was sitting bolt upright having been woken by screams coming from Kyerra's direction on the beach. Kitty was sniffing and pawing her anxiously. In one swift movement Zevran cast off his blanket, and drew his daggers and bolted toward Kyerra. _Tch, tch, tch, are you are getting soft already Zevran_? _Falling asleep, shameful_, he chided himself as he bolted towards her. Zevran saw Taliesen scowl in derision in his mind's eye.

Kyerra was lying on her back grasping at her throat and struggling furiously. It looked to Zevran like she was trying to fend off an attacker, but he saw no-one. In one final gasp for air she hurled her invisible assailant off and to the side and rolled quickly into a crouching position. Her eyes were wide with terror as they stared in the direction of where she had thrown her foe, her chest heaving in an effort to refill her lungs with precious air.

"Kyerra?" Zevran prompted. "Are you ok?"

Kyerra took a moment to respond but the she blinked and looked at Zevran warily.

"What was it, a dream… or rather a nightmare?" he asked.

Kyerra stared at a spot on the ground as she tried to make sense of what had occurred. "I do not know." She answered finally raising a hand to her throat and swallowing. "What are you doing down here?" she asked as she stood upright and stared him in the eyes.

Zevran noticed she was wearing the dress again that he had admired the first morning after he had joined them; it was fast becoming his favourite. "I swore to serve you my Warden, it is hard to serve a dead Warden yes? I thought you may have been at risk down here all by yourself. So I took it upon myself to make sure of your safety."

"How did you know…" she stopped and glanced briefly in the direction of Kaitlyn's house and then nodded.

"I am ok. You look tired; sleep." She directed as she pointed to her bedroll. "I will make sure … you are safe." Zevran was sure he saw a hint of amusement on her face.

"Then I will sleep soundly in the comfort that I am so aptly guarded," he quipped as he began to remove his clothing; he paused when he reached his smallclothes and decided to stop at that point. He saw Kyerra staring at his smalls and he quirked an eyebrow at her.

Kyerra looked at him, "underwear," she stated in a matter-of- fact way. She repeated it again thoughtfully, "underwear." She shook her head. "Alistair thinks I was wearing underwear." She pointed at Zevran and shook her head. "Was not underwear, they were my clothes; Dalish clothes, we wear _under _armour but not like … those. Different." She laughed. "Underwear," and shook her head again.

"Ah, but if I remember correctly, you were wearing some the night you were poisoned yes?"

"Flemeth gave me those. When I was… sent away, I left with only what I had on, she gave me those." Kyerra screwed up her face. "They are underwear too? I do not like them. I like Dalish clothes better. We wear no _underwear_. I do like this; I found it in Kocari Wilds." She looked down at the dress she was wearing

_I like it too,_ Zevran mused. He especially liked and enjoyed the fact that she wore no underwear. Her nipples poked against the soft leather standing out from the chilled air.

"The Chasind made it Morrigan told me. You should sleep now." She turned and walked away, taking her staff with her.

Zevran watched her walk away mesmerised by the shape of her buttocks, deliciously outlined by the tight fitting skirt. He sighed before settling down to sleep. _You're not making this easy for yourself Zevran..._ _Sent away with only what she wore she said; _she_ owns less than I do_. Her brief laughed mingled with his thoughts, it was such a lovely sound. He turned on his side to watch her in the distance. Kyerra had her staff and was moving around the beach sweeping back and forth and turning with it, as if in a dance, the movements were more fluid and graceful than what she had used in the battle the night before.

_This must be the dance she spoke of before_ Zevran thought as drowsiness began to wash over him and he began to drift to sleep. _It is beautiful, as is she…_ Sleepily he watched her dance, the sun just beginning to peek over the surface of the lake's surface; on the far horizon behind her. Kitty quietly sat and watched his mistress, as if entranced also.


	13. Redcliffe Castle

A few hours past sunrise, the beach was stormed by a noisy crowd of people. Zevran, once again was jolted from his sleep. He recognised Alistair, Kaitlyn, and few people from the tavern he had met the night before. The look on Alistair's face was not a happy one, and Kaitlyn looked less than amused. Kyerra walked toward Alistair past Zevran.

"We have been looking everywhere for you!" Alistair shouted. "You should have told someone that you were going to spend the night down here, with… with him."

"Oh ho, Alistair my friend; I did not think you had such a wicked mind, jumping to such conclusions, simply because I was lying in an attractive women's bed. Tch, tch, tch. I am shocked by this, you being raised in the chantry and all. If you must know Ser, Kyerra's virtue is intact… at least I have not tampered with it," he smirked.

"Then _what_ are you doing here, in her bed?" Alistair demanded.

"The Warden decided she preferred to sleep on the beach; I came down early this morning to watch over her, in case any of those creatures from the castle returned, and who knows what that might be lurking in the watery depths beyond."

"Ooo yes of course, the _scary_ sea monsters of the legends which l_urk_ in the depths of Lake Calenhad; just waiting to drag foolish Dalish elves that shun the comforts of a warm bed," Morrigan teased.

Kyerra bristled, "I am not foolish, just because I dislike sleeping in _shem_ boxes," she glared at Morrigan.

"You should have at least told me you were planning on sleeping here," Alistair continued.

"Everyone was in bed when I left, there was no-one to tell; but you are right Alistair, I should have tried somehow to get a message to you; it was thoughtless of me."

"Oh… ahh… okay then… no harm done at least… I guess. As soon as you're ready, Bella is fixing us some breakfast, and then we need to meet with Bann Teagan, he has a plan to get us into the castle."

Kyerra nodded and turned to look skyward at the large stone building on the highest peak overlooking Redcliffe; she regarded it momentarily, and then with a sigh, began to pack up her camp.

**BANN TEAGAN's PLAN**

Bann Teagan was waiting for them at the windmill pacing back and forth nervously. He was dressed in the same clothes he had worn the day before, and they looked crumpled as if he had slept in them. He turned as he heard the party approaching. His faced was deeply lined and he had dark rings beneath his eyes the scars of many days and nights of worry; he brightened slightly when he saw his newly acquired friends approaching.

"I'm so glad you're here," he said. "There is a secret passageway that will take you inside the castle. Hopefully you will be able to find my brother, and learn of any news of his condition."

He handed Alistair his signet ring. "This will unlock the secret door inside the windmill; follow the passageways until you find your way up into the front court yard. I will send Ser Path and his knights to meet you outside the gates; there is a lever inside that will open the gates allowing them entry. They will provide you with back up should you need it."

Kyerra listened unenthusiastically; she had no desire to go, she could not bear the thought of being inside that large stone building they called a castle; she wanted desperately to stay behind. It had been a long while since she had done any hunting, and she felt a deep need to go and escape for a while, far away from _shemlen_ and their problems; with their strange habits and way of talking. She longed for a few hours to be surrounded by only trees, where she could forget the burden she felt upon her.

As they turned to leave a pretty young women and a guard came running toward them.

"Teagan! Teagan! Oh thank goodness you're here," the lady cried out in a peculiar accent.

"Isolde! Thank the Maker you're alive!" the Bann exclaimed. "We didn't know anyone was still alive inside the castle."

"Please, come with me Teagan, to the castle… Connor has let me come to fetch you, but we must quick, I don't know how long he will remain calm."

"Lady Isolde," Alistair said, "tell us…"

Isolde turned and recognised Alistair immediately, "Alistair?… of all the…. what are _YOU_ doing here!"

"This sounds like a trap," Kyerra said, irritated by the way the woman had reacted to Alistair.

"What? Who are you?" Isolde sneered looking Kyerra up and down. Kyerra's irritation soared; she barely resisted retaliating.

"She is a Grey Warden, Isolde, and she travels with Alistair. You owe them much thanks Isolde as they have just helped save the village," Teagan said trying to calm the escalating drama unfolding.

"I am sorry, please forgive my ….,but there is no time for this….; please, Teagan come."

"Alright Isolde, I'll come," Teagan assured her.

"Please hurry," she begged.

Teagan turned to the others. I must go with her, I have no choice. You know what to do, please do whatever you can, save the Arl, he is the most important." And then he turned and left with Isolde and her guard.

**THE CASTLE**

The journey into the castle was more difficult than they had expected; there were countless un-dead creatures roaming freely around the corridors, and in small rooms behind closed doors.

Zevran noticed Kyerra seemed uptight and stressed; she was distracted and edgy; she also was experiencing great difficulty in battle, being forced to fight with daggers more frequently than her bow in these confined spaces. He had to stay close beside her to watch her back, and help her fight off each attacker that targeted her. She was extremely vulnerable when she was without a bow in her hand. If she was to be protected it was important to have that fixed and quickly he decided finally. He wondered briefly if her pride would allow it, _surely she should see reason, after all she allowed her friend Tamlen to teach her some skills, _Zevran reasoned.

They stopped in the courtyard to allow Ser Parth and his knights in through the castle gate, before proceeding to the main hall.

Inside they were astonished to find Bann Teagan acting bizarrely, the the Arl's wife, Isolde looking on, and her son Connor beside her. A handful of castle guards were positioned around the room. The atmosphere was extremely tense as they entered.

The boy addressed Kyerra in a strange tone, "oh look another knife ear, I shall cut of your ears like the others, and feed them to the dogs," he laughed maniacally. Immediately Alistair and Morrigan realised, he was possessed by a demon.

In a flash and before anyone could stop her, Kyerra charged him drawing her blades in fury.

Isolde screamed "No he is just a boy!"

Kyerra paused, her blades at his throat glaring at him her face next to his. "What did you say _shemlen_ brat," she hissed. "I will cut your throat and feed _your_ body to the dogs."

"Guards, attack them," Demon Connor ordered.

The guards in the room became entranced, under the control of the boy and began to attack those gathered in the room. The fight was subdued very quickly; it was a good thing that Ser Parth and his knights had been present.

Connor fled out of the room screaming and ran upstairs to his room.

"I will follow and put an end to this now," Kyerra said her chest heaving still from the battle.

"Please, please I beg you, don't harm Connor, he is just a little boy, and he cannot help it. It is the Mage's fault, he did this. I hired him to tutor Connor when I discovered he had magical gifts."

"I met this Mage; he said he did not do this to the boy. He admitted freely to poisoning the Arl only. He told us he was hired by Loghain to do it," Kyerra spat. "You lie!"

"Of course, that is what he would say," Isolde snapped at her.

Teagan became very angry with Isolde. "How could you go behind Eamon's back like that, he will be very upset by what you have done? Look at all the trouble this has caused."

Zevran remained quiet, oddly aroused by the intensity of Kyerra's outburst. He did not doubt that she would have cut the boys throat without even blinking.

"The child is an abomination, and although I wouldn't normally agree to kill a child, this appears to be our only options," Alistair said.

"No! You can't be serious!" Leliana exclaimed.

Morrigan chuckled and said, "Well the demon can be confronted in the fade but it would require a Mage to do it, and blood magic so would require a sacrifice."

"That's out of the question," Alistair said firmly, "No blood magic, that's what started all this."

"Well if that's it, I will be the sacrifice, if it will save Connor, I will be the one to die." Isolde pleaded.

"No Isolde," Alistair said, "Blood Magic is not the answer. There must be another way."

"What about the Mage in the dungeon? He may know something. He said he wanted to make amends for what he had done, now may be his opportunity. I will fetch him." Kyerra said as she turned and left the room not waiting to hear anybody's thoughts about her decision. She came back a few minutes later marching Jowan ahead of her, making him to stop in the middle of the room.

"Tell them what you told me Jowan," Kyerra prompted.

"There is another way to enter the Fade; we do it at the Tower frequently. It would require a group of mages, which can only be found at the Circle of Magi," Jowan said nervously. "It would mean a few days' journey there, and back, but at least it's an alternative."

"I don't know if I like this option." Kyerra.

"Why for the Maker's sake not?" Alistair asked. "It sounds perfect, and we need to go to the Circle anyway about the treaties. We can achieve both."

"That is true, but how long will the _shem_ child stay calm, the village will not survive more attacks."

"Yes, you have a point." Alistair sighed.

"The woman is the cause of this; it is good she is willing to be the sacrifice," Kyerra said.

"You can't really mean that?" Alistair gasped.

Morrigan rolled her eyes and sighed loudly.

"Yes I can, it is an honourable thing she offers. You wish to plea for her life Alistair? The blood that has been spilled because of her cries also. Is her life worth more those from the village?" Kyerra said sternly.

Morrigan nodded but said nothing.

Zevran cared little for the matter, but favoured the quickest and easiest solution. _Slay the child or the mother - move on to next calamity. _

"Connor will not remain calm for long," Isolde said. "I am afraid of him and what he will do."

"Is there a way for him to be contained in his room for three or four days?" Leliana asked desperately, grasping for another way other than more bloodshed.

"A fully trained Templar could I suppose, which I am not sadly," Alistair sighed.

"A ward could be put on the room. That would keep him and all magic contained," Jowan suggested. "I can do this as long as I have enough Lyrium to sustain it."

"That should settle the matter; we should try to do this." Then Alistair added. "I leave the decision to you though, Kyerra."

Kyerra considered all the options and finally agreed they would travel to the Circle of Magi.

**TO THE CIRCLE**

Kyerra was happy and relieved they were done for now, and leaving the huge pile of rocks they called a Castle. Zevran noticed her barely conceivable sigh, and her demeanour relax considerably once the group returned to the outdoors.

It would be day's journey there and a day's journey back assuming they were not delayed. So they left the castle and returned to the tavern for the rest of the day to prepare.

"Are you to sleep on the beach again tonight warden?" Zevran inquired.

"Yes, I am hoping to see a sea monster before we leave." This time the amused look on her face was very apparent.

Zevran smiled, "oh really, and what will you do when this sea monster tries to drag you to your watery grave?" He briefly remembered that she would probably like that to happen.

"I'm sure you would find a way to prevent it," she sighed. "You are always watching my back."

"That is because it is a lovely back to watch, dear Warden. Like I have said, I swore to serve you; I can only do this if you are living."

Kyerra nodded but looked displeased by this fact and Zevran knew why.

"…I know the thought of living may not thrill you right now, given the events that occurred prior to you being here, but you never know when things might change, no?"

"Like they did for you?" Kyerra pushed.

Shocked Zevran replied, "No! Why would you say that? I was just…"

Kyerra stopped and looked Zevran in the eyes. "Why do you try to hide this? I saw it the day we first met and I said nothing, for it was none of my business. Forgive my intrusion; a Dalish would not normally discuss this deep matter. You only wish to talk about me and not yourself?"

_So it's true. She's aware of my reason for travelling to Ferelden. She is right though, why I feel I can so freely discuss her, when I am unwilling to discuss myself. Do I even believe what I just said to her? I am being a hypocrite. If I really want her to see the point, surely it would help her to know more… no. Don't be ridiculous, Zevran, that would be giving away too much, a huge mistake. She can accept your advice or not, it is simple, matter closed._

"It's quite alright Warden. Like the Dalish, Crows have similar ways; we do not discuss matters with each other."

"You are no longer a Crow, I thought, as I am no longer a Dalish. I am willing to cast off my Dalish way, to not discuss, if you are willing to cast aside yours."

Zevran wrestled with her suggestion. "Yes, alright; I came to Ferelden to die; I saw nothing in the future for me, this changed when I saw a chance for a new life," he blurted.

Kyerra considered Zevran's words. "This I have not seen."

"Perhaps if you stop looking behind and begin to look ahead, you will see it."

Kyerra nodded thoughtfully.

The tavern was empty when the weary warriors entered and sat down at a table and ordered around of ale. Bella brought them each their mugs and set them before them, resting her hand on Zevran's shoulder as she deposited his.

"What is this drink?" Kyerra asked peering into the mug.

"It is ale, Kyerra. I guess you have not had it before," Leliana answered. "It is an acquired taste for some."

Kyerra smelled it, "smells like water from Halla." She looked around to see that everyone else was drinking theirs and tentatively took a sip. "Does not taste like it though," she smacked her lips.

Everyone stopped mid drink and stared at Kyerra in horror; she continued sipping her ale quietly. Zevran saw a twinkle in her eye and the barely noticeable curve at the corners of her mouth; he began to understand, was her look of amusement. She was playing with them.

"Ah, I see our Warden has a sense of humour," Zevran chuckled, and drained the last of his beer from his mug. The group laughed lightly and uneasily, not knowing who to believe.

It was soon decided after a lengthy debate, that they should leave for the Circle that day rather than waste the daylight left in the day. The idea of shunning the comforts the tavern offered in favour of camping again put a damper on the previously light-hearted mood.

"So I'm guessin' I'll be in me bed alone t'night after all," Bella said to Zevran as he got up from the bench.

"It is unfortunate my dear, but yes, duty calls."

"Are you comin' back this way?"

"Yes, I believe we are," Zevran smiled.

Bella nodded, "well in that case stay safe."

"For you, of course," Zevran winked and went upstairs to gather his belongings.


	14. A Hunting We Will Go

Kyerra picked up her bow, quiver, and an empty sack and slung it across her back. I will go hunt and bring us food back to eat.

"If you do not mind Warden I would like to come with you and assist," Zevran asked.

Kyerra glanced briefly at Zevran, "I need no assistance. Or are you meaning more protection? I planned to go alone, but come if you wish."

Kyerra picked up the trail of an animal quickly, and followed it deep into the woods. Zevran strained to see the clues that Kyerra was following, but saw nothing bar the occasional footprint, proving that at least they were following something that was real.

"We are getting closer, we must make no sound, and stay downwind," Kyerra whispered. Zevran nodded, and they continued, quietly stalking through the undergrowth beneath the tall straight trees until Kyerra held up her hand signalling for Zevran to stop. With slow, careful movements: she put down her sack, and drew her bow, silently nocking an arrow as she pulled the bowstring taut.

Zevran could not help but admire the Dalish huntress before him; her eyes were sharply focused, like arrows themselves, as they peered toward their prey sizing up the target, concentration deeply etched on her face. She closed her eyes briefly for a second, her breathing deepened and slowed,and with a final outward breath released the bowstring. The arrow flew through the air and hit its target with deadly accuracy; the large hare-like animal omitted a short squeal of alarm, as it fell to the forest floor dead.

Swiftly they moved to where the animal lay. Kyerra muttered some words quietly in Dalish, her hands resting on the carcass, and she lent down and kissed it lightly on the nose. Zevran looked on quietly, sensing it was some kind of ritual as he thought to himself how beautiful her language sounded, one of the most beautiful he had ever heard, apart from his own.

"Let me carry it back to camp for you. At least then I will feel as if I have helped in some way," Zevran chuckled. Kyerra nodded and stood up and headed back toward camp.

When they were only a little distance from camp, Kyerra stopped. "We need to hang it here. We have not finished. You can put it down." Zevran lowered the animal's body to the ground and Kyerra bent down and slit its throat. She unthreaded some leather cord from her sack, and tied it around the beast's hind legs and began to lift it. Zevran reached forward and helped hold it as she deftly wound the cord around its hind feet and tied it to a branch where it was to hang from. She quickly skinned it and stretched it over a quickly constructed make shift frame.

"Now we get the rest of our meal," Kyerra said.

Zevran and Kyerra set off again back into the forest.

"Tonight you will eat like the Dalish."

"As long as you don't make me drink Halla urine, or worse, I will be happy," Zevran laughed.

Kyerra laughed briefly and glanced at Zevran. "No, not tonight, I have no Halla from which to get it."

Zevran smiled, "Ah _mia carina_, your laugh is almost like the sound the Lillo flutes make in my Antiva." His heart twinged a little as the wisp of a thought that he may never hear them again tried to alight in his thoughts.

"Thank you, it has been long time since I felt like doing it," she smiled. "I am finding more, _shemlen_ kind and… you, have come to be an amusement to me."

"Then I will be sure to add entertainer to my list of skills then, yes? So what is it we are looking for now?"

"Other food to eat with meat, you will see. The earth provides all the Dalish eat, we do not grow our own."

"What about Halla?"

"We do not eat them!" Kyerra was appalled. "They are very important to Dalish people; that would be a terrible thing to do."

Soon Kyerra stopped underneath a large tree, covered in reddish/black berries. She put down everything she was carrying and with the effortless grace of a cat, climbed up the tree into its branches, and began to pick handfuls of berries passing them down to Zevran to put in her sack.

"You only eat the black ones, red ones make you sick," she instructed.

When she had finished, Kyerra dropped to the ground lightly. "Now we find some water, this way."

They eventually found themselves beside a small thickly pebbled brook and Kyerra started examining the edges until she found what she was looking for. She gathered large bright green corrugated leaves and put them into her sack.

Next, they found some mushrooms growing near a rotting damp log, and an assortment of strange looking roots from a various plants. Lastly, they gathered some nut-like seeds of differing shapes and colours from low-lying bushes.

"We are done."

Zevran was amazed at the bounty of food they were bringing back to camp. Kyerra's sack could hold no more it was so full.

They arrived back at the hanging carcass and untied it, and carried it and the pelt back to camp, stopping now and then to gather what looked like grass-like weeds to Zevran.

Zevran watched as Kyerra gutted the animal quickly and tossed its un-usable remains to her eagerly waiting Mabari. Her hunting knife's strokes were precise, clean, and lethal. She then secured the trimmed and dressed carcass to a thick stick and placed it over the fire. Into a waiting pot of boiling water, she had placed earlier on the fire; she added many of the things they had gathered.

Soon everyone had gathered around the campfire, drawn by the taunting aromas wafting from Kyerra's cooking.

"If that meal tastes half as good as it smells, you can do the cooking from now on," Alistair jested.

"I am not cook, I only learned a little from Ashalle when I was too young to hunt. I am hunter; those that cannot hunt do _other_ duties." Kyerra screwed up her face slightly, sending a clear message to everyone present, that being a cook was like an insult to her.

The night's meal was delicious and the group of companions retired for the night, bellies full and contented, ready to face the hike to the Circle of Magi the next day.

Zevran woke later when he heard moans and gasps of pleasure, of the kind derived from vigorous sex. He listened briefly wondering who could have possibly been successful where he had failed so far to bed any of his fellow companions. The only person Zevran had yet to approach to offer his 'talented' services for 'release', was Kyerra, simply because he had made the decision that would not be wise. To his complete surprise and amusement, he soon surmised it was in fact, Kyerra's gasps he was listening too.

_Who could possibly be with her? Alistair? Surely not Sten! Maybe Leliana… but wait, I hear no others;_ he conferred with himself as he listened in more. _Oh, I see now, it is a simple case of_ _nocturnal_ '_self-pleasuring; which is such a terrible crime, Zevran; a willing and needy person lies within feet of you and.._. He then heard her speaking to someone and muttering the name, Tamlen. _Ah, it's only a dream she is having, _he chuckled quietly_, a very nice dream, although I am surprised I am disappointed it is not my name she is calling in her sleep. _He chuckled again.

Soon Kyerra's moans of pleasure transformed to screams of terror. Another nightmare, her screams woke the entire camp. Bleary-eyed people rushed – stumbled out of their tents.

Kyerra sat there wild-eyed in absolute terror; it was a few moments before she even noticed the gathering crowd around her.

"I am ok, it was just bad dream. Go back to your beds," she said quietly.

Zevran was sure the commotion her dream had caused, had embarrassed Kyerra.

"It is the taint within your blood; it connects you to the Darkspawn and even the Archdemon itself," Alistair told her. "It takes some time to get used to it; some learn to manage it completely."

"No, it was not Darkspawn or the Archdemon, they do not scare me. It was Tamlen, but then… it was not, he became something else, and tried to kill me. He haunts me; he is angry with me, because I live and he doesn't. He is dead because of my curse."

"You're what?" Alistair exclaimed.

"I am cursed Alistair, all people I care for will die."

"Who told you this?"

"No-one, it was never spoken of, but it is clear to me; it is the legacy my birth mother and father gave to me.

"Gah! That is rubbish! Enough of this nonsense I am going back to bed," Morrigan huffed as she spun on her heals and returned to her tent.

"I am alright, go back to your beds you need to sleep," Kyerra said.

"Alright, it's pointless I guess telling you to try to get back to sleep," Alistair told her as he turned to leave.

"No sleep now. I will find something to do."

Zevran wondered fleetingly if he should stay and keep her company; however, the weariness of his body convinced him to return to his bed.

Kyerra meandered about the camp, keeping herself busy with various tasks: like oiling her armour and bow, working the hide from the evening's hunt, checking through her quiver of arrows until finally she had run out of things to do. She grabbed the staff she had acquired at Redcliffe and went to practice with it some more.

When Zevran woke Kyerra was still practising, he stood outside his tent and watched her go through all her movements, studying them at length, her sure-footed steps, and fluid like actions and movements. He saw immediately how she could apply that same concept to working with daggers. This was how he could help her improve her combat skills; in a way that she was already familiar.


	15. Lessons Begin

- Warnings -

M/M slash sexual references ahead.

Male anatomy references and name used.

* * *

><p>Kyerra mulled Zevran's suggestion over in her head before replying. "You want to teach me to fight with daggers?"<p>

"Yes, Warden; now do not take offense at my suggestion. You see, I have noticed…a toe-to-toe battle is not your strength. You know already this puts you in danger as well as the others that are relying on you to hold your own when attacked."

"I am not offended, what you say is truth, but how is it you will teach me? Like a Crow?"

"Oh no, I swore to the Crows I would never reveal their secrets shown to me, to anyone, but I can show you the basics without breaking any oaths, besides you have a natural style of your own that I am hoping to incorporate into your training. It will be fun, yes. I will make it fun." Zevran grinned. "Tonight when we stop and make camp, I will show you what I mean."

Kyerra nodded.

* * *

><p>The group made it the Ferelden Circle Tower of Magi in good time. They day's light had not yet sunk into the chilly depths behind Lake Calenhad.<p>

Kyerra stood still gawking up at the immense stone construction that rose high above the lake.

"Pfft, why am I not surprised!" Morrigan announced, "A prison that looks like a giant erect phallus."

"What is phallus?" Kyerra asked.

Leliana stifled a laugh and Kyerra turned to her and frowned.

"Yes Morrigan, what is a Phallus, I would like to know?" Zevran teased.

Morrigan rolled her eyes and sighed loudly "It is a penis... do you know what that is Kyerra?"

"Yes, I do." She turned back to stare at the tower deep in thought before saying. "Must be _Shem_ phallus, elves look nothing like that."

This time Leliana laughed loudly and Zevran joined her. "I will not argue with that statement, indeed it looks like nothing like an elf's c…"

"It looks nothing like a human either!" Alistair blurted, with a hint of redness in his cheeks.

"My good friend Alistair, I believe it would be wrong of you to not prove this statement. You should drop your pants immediately and show it to be the truth."

"I will do no such thing. Kyerra will just have to take my word for it. Or yours perhaps, I am sure you have seen more than one before in your sordid past."

"Now where would be the fun in that, hmm? I prefer a demonstration to be had of your _Shem _manliness."

Morrigan did not hide her pleasure that somehow things had turned around to torment Alistair and laughed raucously. Zevran kept the teasing up all the way to the Tavern. His jovial mood squashed slightly when they were informed by the tavern keep, "their kind," meaning elves, were not welcome as guests. However, they were more than welcome to bunk down in the stables with the dog.

Zevran looked shot Kyerra a careful sideways glance, ready to intercept any outbursts directed at the man.

"You say that because if you think I want to sleep in your _Shem_ box and pay you money to do it? You are wrong; I will gladly sleep outside with my dog. He would be happy to not sleep with your horses too."

"Well, I simply refuse to sleep anywhere my friends are not welcome, so I will be sleeping outside tonight, it will be nice, it is so nice here." Leliana stated.

"I refuse to pass up the opportunity of a warm soft bed in order to make a protest that in the long run will not make an ounce of difference to this man's beliefs." Morrigan added.

Leliana glared at her.

"Er, um, me either. I mean, I will be sleeping outside too," said Alistair.

The tall hulking Sten had spoken very little in the time he had been with the party but his patience had worn thin with the great deal of time wasting he had endured during this time. "We need to get on with what we came here to do?" he huffed before exiting the building.

"He is right we can discuss this later. Where can we organise transport across the lake to the tower." Alistair asked.

"Well usually there's a man that can take yers across in 'is boat, but nowt today. No one is allowed ta cross over ta tha tower. Not sure why, nothin' was said. Yer can ask tha Templar who's posted at tha end of tha wharf over yonder; maybe he can tell yer sumthin."

"Alright, thank you, we will."

The Templar stood when the group descend upon him.

"We want to go to the tower; we are on Grey Warden's business," Kyerra announced.

"Oh are you now?" the young Templar eyed Kyerra up and down noticeably. "Prove it."

Alistair handed the Templar the signed treaties.

"Oohh right, I am supposed to believe these are _real_ documents? I am supposed to overlook the fact that any fool could have forged these. I suppose you have not heard then that all the Grey Wardens died at Ostagar. Pity - that would have been a good ruse had it not been for that _small_ detail. So no, I will not be taking you across. I have been instructed by the Knight Commander _himself_ that: **absolutely-no-one-is-allowed-across**!" The man stated with added emphasis and a smirk.

"Why? What is going on up there?"

"Ah now see that's on a need to know only basis and _you,_ miss, don't need to know."

"Come now, how do we know we don't need to know if you don't tell us? Maybe we do indeed need to know, but none of us will ever know this because you keep it to yourself." Zevran paused, "And how can you be sure that not telling us is the right choice, without you knowing what we need to know or not that we do not, have you never in your life been wrong about a thing? I think you should tell us and then let us be the judge on whether we need to know or not. Don't you?"

The Templar's mouth opened slightly and closed again, he thought for a moment before replying in a nonchalant manner, "No! Now leave me in peace."

The group wandered back and set up camp for the night. Over the meal various ideas were discussed as to how they could perhaps find a way across to the tower, but they all came up empty."

After dinner, Zevran wandered over to Kyerra.

"We can begin your lessons as soon as you are ready."

"I am ready now."

"Good, we can go down over there by the water, away from the others, no distractions."

Kyerra weighed him up critically for a moment before relaxing slightly and went in the direction Zevran had suggested.

Kyerra drew her blades when she arrived at the water's edge.

"Oh, we will not need those, not yet anyway." Zevran took them from her and laid them down. "We will start with the basics. General patterns of movements, exactly like those dance moves you have been displaying … so well."

Zevran consciously had to stop himself from flirting with Kyerra when he was with her. For him it was simply habit and harmless fun usually, but with Kyerra, he did not want to encourage anything he did not wish to continue. It took much greater effort this night than in the past.

It was such a lovely evening and although Zevran would never call himself a romantic, being down by the dimly lit water, with sound of waves gentle lapping against the rocks in the background, created the perfect atmosphere for seduction. Coupled with the fact that Kyerra looked positivity inviting dressed in her Dalish "not underwear," her smooth tanned skin lit by the soft bluish light that shone around them. Zevran's Crow trained mind was still able hold focus on the task, right up until the moment he held her in his arms.

It was an unusually innocent move on Zevran's part thinking that leading her through the moves, as if you would a dance partner, would be simpler than explaining the moves. He stood close behind her and took hold of each of her wrists into his own hands. He felt the warmth of her body flush against his, and in one breath inhaled her scent, he was intoxicated. Her hair, her skin a mixture of unusual but pleasant smells, it was all he could do to not smell her again as if he would a scented flower.

Zevran cleared his throat as he struggled to refocus his thoughts.

"Okay relax," he said as much to himself as did to Kyerra. "I will lead you through the movements at first, and then you shall do it on your own and I will watch and make corrections until you get it."

Kyerra nodded. If she felt anything concerning Zevran's proximity, she gave nothing away.

They began to move through several patterns of movements. Kyerra caught on quickly and Zevran relinquished his hold of her. Zevran could not see from his position the flash of disappointment that briefly fluttered through Kyerra's eyes. He was unaware that she had enjoyed his touch; it had been so long since she had been this close to a man. Tamlen was the first man that had held her so intimately and was the last. Their relationship had started innocently as friends in much the same way.

"Alright, now go through the moves again and I shall watch."

Kyerra nodded and began to move. Her movements were less fluid than usual as she struggled to remember each step and coordinate her feet with her arm movements, but practise would fix that. Zevran was pleased with the fact he only had to correct her a little on her positioning. Each step and move she had remembered completely, thankfully she was a fast learner.

Kyerra repeated the drill several times at Zevran's insistence. Soon, Zevran's focus began to change from that of a Crow disciplined teacher to that of a full-blooded male as he watched her half-naked moonlit body sway and move. Firm muscles fluttered gently over her body, Kyerra was agile and strong but retained her femineity, and he remembered again the unique scent of her hair and the warmth of her skin.

Zevran stood idly mesmerised as his thoughts began to drift…. _Back and forth, side-to-side, she moved and swayed her hips, so sexy, so inviting… he looked on eagerly with a feigned indifference as the beautiful elven lass ran her hands up over her full bosom up to her hair to release her fiery red locks; with a gentle shake they spilled down and over her shoulders like a cascading waterfall. All the while, she continued her hip gyrated gently, swaying like a viper hypnotising its prey – he was the prey - she was playing the tease, and playing it well. He had to have her - he would have her - she would be his, and after all, he is the greatest lover in the whole of Antiva … Rinna … truly you are a beauty … you were a beauty…_

"So how did I do?"

"Hmm, oh – good, very good. I think that is enough for one night."

Kyerra eyed Zevran questioningly, "Are you okay; you looked … far away?"

Zevran donned his best faux grin while inside his heart wrestled as he fought to stuff the memory back down where it should have been. "I am just a little tired I think my dear warden. That should be enough for tonight I think, yes?"

Kyerra said nothing but simply nodded.

_Damn that girl and my inability to read what she is thinking._ Zevran thought and wondered if she had read anything from his expression.

"Well good night to you Zevran, I will go to my bed now and sleep."

"Good night to you too, Warden."

* * *

><p>Zevran tossed and turned for a long time after retiring, he had managed successfully to wrestle his guilt back down and enchain it once more. What remained now was Zevran's keen need for release. After running through all viable options in the near vicinity he came up with scant few, one of those though was the strapping handsome Templar on the dock <em>– alone, young, probably randy as hell, easy prey for a seducer of my calibre … hmm maybe I could kill two birds with one stone tonight.<em>

Zevran slid quietly out of his bedroll, jumped into his leather pants.

"Where are you going? You are very restless," Kyerra asked sleepily.

"Just replying to a pressing…call of nature I have acquired, go back to sleep Warden," and strolled off in the direction of the river.


	16. The Tower

Kyerra stirred, climbing steadily upward from a deep restful sleep, roused by the warmth of the morning sun upon her skin. She yawned, and stretched lazily until the fog from her brain cleared to reveal a shocking reality, which hit her like a slap, that she had slept way past dawn. Hastily her eyes darted around the makeshift camp to see if others were awake.

"You're awake," Leiliana's sweet melodic voice chirped. "We let you sleep in. You looked so peaceful no-one had the heart to wake you since this was the first morning your usual nightmares had not plagued you. Here, have a cup of tea, it has just been brewed."

Kyerra nodded thanks as she quietly took the cup Leiliana held to her and her gaze wandered to the outcrop of rocks upon the lake's shoreline, where Zevran stood, going through various fight sequences, some of the forms Kyerra now recognised from her lessons the night before.

She watched closely, at first simply analysing his technique and style; so tight but still flowing effortlessly from one movement to the next. Before long however, the woman in her responded to his barely clothed perfect physique and she could not help but admire Zevran's smooth sun bronzed skin as its sweaty surface glimmered faintly in the morning light, his well-defined muscles rippling with each graceful movement. Her eyes travelled from his strong broad shoulders down the length of his back, ignoring the various markings she had learned were called 'tattoos', to his slender waistline resting her eyes upon the tight rounded set muscles at the junction of his torso and legs, accentuated nicely by the smooth tight design of Zevran's well-worn leather pants. Kyerra's body approved responding with a warm intimate yearning, not since she had gazed upon Tamlen had she felt this response.

Zevran was a very attractive male elf, perhaps the most beautiful she had ever encountered, it was not surprising to her he had no shortage of willing bed mates, his sexual antics had puzzled her at first although like most things she didn't understand about her new companions she simply wrote it off as weird _shemlan_ or flat-ear behaviour. She began to wonder what he would be like as a lover; her only experience had been Tamlen, remembering this made her heart shrink back hastily.

"He is rather lovely to look at isn't he," Leiliana confessed shyly.

Kyerra averted her eyes abruptly realising she was being spied upon also.

"I watch to learn more," Kyerra half lied.

Leiliana simply smiled and tactfully changed the subject. "He certainly has a variety of useful talents. Zevran was able to find out from the Templar last night there is a spare boat moored around the other side of the boat shed over there, so we will be able to cross to the tower after all. I was concerned when you first agreed to let him accompany us, but now I believe you were right to give him a chance to redeem himself. So far he has been an asset, an annoying one at times but I am still glad he is with us."

"There is a boat? This is good."

"You don't want to know how he got that piece of information either," Alistair chimed in. "Don't make the mistake I did and ask. Good morning by the way, it is good you finally got a decent sleep, no nasty nightmare for a change. Hopefully, they will occur less more often."

Kyerra gestured to Alistair with an acknowledging nod.

"Do women really find men like Zevran… _attractive_?" Alistair asked gingerly.

"Oh yes, very much so," Leiliana answered enthusiastically. "Some do, yes."

"Hmmm," Alistair mused, "You don't think it's… _too_ much, with all the hair, and the preening, and constant washing?"

"No, Alistair, it is good that he takes the time to pay so much attention to appearance and hygiene. Do you agree Kyerra?"

Kyerra shrugged and shook her head slightly, "It is not something I have thought on."

"Do the Dalish wash and care about how they look?"

"Of course the Dalish wash! What is it you think of us – that we live like animals?"

Leiliana was horrified, "Oh I am sorry Kyerra, I didn't mean it like… I didn't mean to offend you. I, I chose my words poorly please forgive me."

Kyerra huffed out the last of her irritation out as she nodded curtly at Leiliana before standing and beginning the routine of packing up belongings to prepare for the day ahead.

* * *

><p>The boat ride across the mystical lake would have been a pleasant experience for Kyerra if it were not for the gnawing feeling in the depths of her stomach. She loathed entering the stone monstrosity they referred to as 'The Tower'. She scanned the height and breadth of it for an opening that would let in air or light, her throat tightened when she found none.<p>

She did not realise it but Zevran had noticed her apprehension and made a mental note of it.

They tied the boat to a pier upon the landing below the tall sandstone tower, and the group made their way to the large iron door, which was the entrance. Alistair pounded upon the door loudly, the sound echoed in the vast stone interior.

"Hello, anybody home?" Alistair called out gaily with a short chuckle.

A small metal window flung open and a pair of eyes peered through a slit of a steel, Templar helmet.

"Have you brought word regarding the Rite of Annulment?"

"The what? No! We are Grey Wardens, here on important business, may we please enter?" Alistair answered.

"No. No one is allowed to enter. I don't know how you managed to get over here…."

A voice from the background spoke to the Templar.

"They say they are Grey Warden's, sir, here on important business," the Templar answered the voice.

The voice spoke again.

"Apparently not all of them, sir, if what these people claim_ is_ indeed the truth. I do not know, sir, they have yet to advise me. Shall I ask? Yes, of course sir, as you say."

The clang and scraping of several large metal bolts drawn back rang out and the large door opened like a lazy yawn, with a long groan.

"The Knight Commander has agreed to allow you entry."

The Templar directed them to the rear of a large foyer, dimly lit by the aid of candles, where a tall man with dark grey hair splashed stood menacingly his annoyance at their intrusion showing clearly. Adorned in impressive Templar armour, which stood out as being far superior in design and materials from the armour worn by the other Templars, it was clear that this was the man in charge. Positioned around the room at attention were several other Templars, also fully attired complete with helmets, swords and shields. There was a distinct air of unease in the atmosphere.

The party strode inside and approached the Knight Commander as he turned to faced them.

"We are very busy here, I would like to find out how it is you managed to get yourselves over here, after I left clear instructions that no-one other than someone bearing a message from the Grand Cleric was allowed across. I have been informed you do not, so what is so urgent that you would defy my orders."

"Uh, umm…." Alistair started.

"We are here because of the blight. We need mages. Here are the papers," Kyerra stated curtly and handed the man the treaties."

"I was informed all Grey Warden's perished at Ostagar, how is it your group is in possession of these documents?"

"We are Grey Wardens. As you see not all have died. We are the only two left."

"I am weary of the Grey Wardens and their ceaseless need for troops to fight the Darkspawn," Greagoir released an exasperated sigh as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, "but it is their right. I am afraid you have come at a very inconvenient time."

"I'll make a note to inform the archdemon when we see it, to perhaps phone ahead next time it causes a Blight" scoffed Morrigan quietly under her breath.

Greagoir peered at Morrigan briefly before continuing. "Well there are no mages that can answer your summons and my men and women have other things to deal with and I cannot spare any of them."

"What do you mean no mages? What is going on here?" Alistair pressed.

"We have had an… incident occur; many of the mages have perished along with many of my guards. Those who remain will soon be… no more." The strain on the Templars face became apparent to the group. "I have requested a Rite of Annulment be performed."

"NO!" Alistair exclaimed. "You can't be serious!"

"What is this he speaks of?" Kyerra asked.

"It means, anyone left in the tower is going to die," Alistair said sadly.

"Why?" Kyerra's brows furrowed.

Greagoir was the one who answered. "There has been an uprising; many of the mages were using blood magic; many have given themselves over to demons, become abominations. My men tried to do what they could but they were mightily overpowered. This is unfortunate and hard for all of us to come to terms with, so I'm sure you will appreciate my next request in that you leave us to perform our duties."

"Is there nothing that can be done?" Kyerra's brow creased in an unusual display of concern.

"Sadly, no."

Kyerra nodded firmly and turned to leave.

"What, we are going?" exclaimed Leiliana. "Surely you cannot just leave these poor people to their fate, there are sure to be many innocent among them. We cannot just, leave without trying something." She glanced at Alistair hoping for support to which he simply shrugged.

Morrigan was the one to answer, "Sometimes bad things happen to good people and we just have to accept that and move on, there are other important things to be done, many innocent suffer every day."

Zevran nodded but said nothing.

Leiliana huffed and turned to look at Kyerra who was deep in thought.

"What do you suggest, Leiliana?" Kyerra finally asked.

"I, I don't know. Perhaps we can go inside and attempt a rescue of those left. I know little of mages but what I do know they are not without great power; I cannot believe that the situation is truly hopeless."

Kyerra considered Leiliana's reply and looked to Alistair's input, "What have you to say?"

"I don't know Kyerra, there are_ abominations_ in there, you know, mages controlled by demons, not to mention Blood Mages and the demons they summon and Maker knows what else. It would also be very hard to know who is innocent and who is not. The Templars are trained to deal with this kind of thing, and they have failed."

Kyerra nodded. "But what do _you_ think we should do?"

"I can't believe I am saying this but, I am finding it hard to just walk away from these people. I know many of the mages who live… in the Tower, and most of those I cannot believe would be a part of what happened. If they are still alive, I know they would help us. We do really need mages to face the Archdemon and its army of Darkspawn. Not to mention the Arl's son, entering the Fade is by far the best chance for him."

"What you are discussing is out of the question," Greagoir interrupted finally as if he had been listening in hope of hearing something that he could act upon, "I _cannot_ allow any to enter."

Kyerra scanned the faces of her companions and the tall Templar leader before her. "How would we fight demons and abominations?"

"You are really thinking this Warden? I have heard a saying, 'to let sleeping abominations lie', I am quite certain there would be ample reason to take this advice," Zevran said. "I am not afraid though; do not be confused, I merely suggest this may be folly."

"Well, normal weapons are useless against them, they would need to be imbued or enchanted – designed for this specific purpose. Of course, none of us is in possession of such a weapon. The Templars of course are equipped with them; whether they would part with them is another matter. Magic and Templar skills are what is the most effective though, multiplied by a whole heap of help from the Maker," Alistair interjected.

"You are a Templar, Alistair," Kyerra said firmly.

"Not quite, I was recruited into the Grey Wardens before I was inducted."

Un-deterred Kyerra continued, "Leiliana speaks to the Maker all the time and she _was_ sent by her Him to help us." Zevran chuckled at Kyerra's simple understanding of Leiliana's faith. "And Morrigan knows …." Kyerra stopped remembering that it was not a good thing to let on in front of Templars they had an apostate mage in their midst. "There are sure to be mages inside. It is possible that we could be successful."

"Did you hear me before? I refuse to let you inside, so this discussion is pointless."

"You wish to give up the lives of innocents, still inside?" Kyerra questioned.

"Believe me if I thought there was a way, I would do it."

"What does it matter to you if we were to perish, is it not our right to choose our fate."

"If you insist on this madness your blood will not be on my hands. It is by your choosing. I want you to know that if I open those doors and let you inside, I absolutely refuse to open them again unless I get the all clear from the Senior Enchanter himself. We shut those doors and you are on your own. Are we clear on this?"

Kyerra glanced over at the two huge iron doors that led to deeper inside the tower. In her mind, she heard the doors clang shut. The gnawing sensation in her stomach upgraded to nausea at the thought of being trapped inside with no hope of escape, perhaps spending her last moments alive. Unexplainable panic rose in her. Then the thought struck her and she saw a chance for her to avoid the possible horror.

"I understand," Kyerra nodded. "Knowing this though, I do not believe it is wise that both Grey Wardens should be risked. Alistair, would you continue with this mission still, even if I stay behind? You are the best to lead, but I also believe no-one should be forced to go, go only if you wish to."

"Me, lead? I couldn't… cant," Alistair clamoured.

"You have to, if you truly want help the Arl's son and any remaining mages, you must find the courage to do this. However, you have the same choice as we do, go or not go. You understand the necessity that one Warden remain behind, yes. I believe you can do this, Alistair."

"Duncan used to say the same thing to me but…" Alistair paused to bite back emotions that threatened to surface, then taking a deep breath he said, "Alright, I will do this."

"Leiliana, what do you say, is your faith in your Maker enough?" Kyerra asked.

"It is."

"Morrigan, Sten?"

"You can most definitely count me out, this place represents everything I detest, it would be ludicrous for me to accompany them," the tall exotic mage snarled.

"Yes," Sten answered.

"Kitty is useless to you, so will stay with us, Zevran you have yet to answer."

"I will go where you command me to go Warden; it is not for me to decide my fate."

Kyerra looked at Zevran hard. As she expected his face was expressionless, but visible to Kyerra's keen eyes was that his expression was forced, and she knew from this that if he had to force his face to be still then underneath he did not wish to go. Years spent in the hands of the Crows had stolen from him his ability to refuse to do something he might fear. Kyerra knew that if he had the ability he would choose no. So she chose for him. "Fine, you stay with us."

Zevran simply nodded.

"We will continue on to the Brecilian Forest and locate the Dalish; we will meet up again at Redcliffe. There are bound to be many other mages, not imprisoned here in the tower, we are sure to find many and we will request their assistance in this Blight to add to the number of mages now their numbers may be diminished."

Alistair nodded, "What if something happens to either of our groups, what then?"

"Give us seven days from now to make it to Redcliffe if we do not come, move on but leave word as to where you go, and we will do the same."

"If we don't make it Kyerra… "

"You will make it, you have to. Creators guide your path."

Kyerra, Zevran, Morrigan and Kitty waited until the huge metal doors banged shut behind their companions, locking them inside the tower and the horror that waited within, and turned to leave the tower, their mood now slightly more ominous than when they had entered earlier.


End file.
